Speak Up, Calm Down
by katlou303
Summary: Hinata is a near mute girl whose anxiety is getting worse by the day. Sakura's a girl with anger issues on her very last chance. Life is hard when everything you do is a mistake, and everyone is against you. High school fic, GaaSaku, NaruHina.
1. I don't give a damn about my reputation!

Quotes:

Anxiety - The fear of being laughed at makes cowards of us all ~ _Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960._

Anger - No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched. _– George Jean Nathan._

* * *

Hinata was always wary of the fine china. She tried to move slowly, gracefully, like her father had taught her, but she became clumsy when she worried about breaking something.

Today, she slowly placed her fragile cup down, using her little finger to muffle the clinking sound it made against the table, all too aware of her father's hard stare as she did so. Sitting next to her, Hanabi took a casual, easy sip of her drink. She never broke anything, and always looked away with a smile when the expected crash occurred near Hinata.

"Neji, I am finished with my tea." Hiashi spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the silence harshly, nearly startling a gasp from Hinata who managed to stifle it with her handkerchief.

Neji sat in the corner of the room on a hard, wooden chair. He gave his uncle a murderous glare but unfolded himself, his long legs managing to have more grace in their movements than Hinata's delicate fingers.

He plucked Hiashi's cup and saucer from his lax grip and whirled around with the effortless grace of a waiter in a five star hotel, his long hair a shimmering arc as he spun on the spot, illuminated by the sun.

"Thank you, Hiashi-sama," Neji bowed as deeply as the cup and saucer would allow, all traces of his glare removed from his face, now looking blankly servile as his uncle paid him a small amount of attention.

Hiashi waved a careless hand, not bothering to hide his annoyance. There was nothing Neji could ever do to please him, simply being himself, Hiashi's nephew, was enough to cause constant irritation for the man.

"Hinata, you have finished," Hiashi snapped, making her jump, "Why do you never speak up? Neji, take her cup."

Hinata squirmed in her seat. It was always the same. She could open her mouth, move her lips, but forcing the sound out was near impossible. She was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of her voice being croaky or loud, of embarrassing herself as she always did.

Neji reached over her and seized her cup with a baleful glare. She froze in her seat, words of thanks drying in her mouth.

You can do it, she thought, just say… thank you…

She opened her mouth. Her father was glaring at her; Neji was looking more and more mutinous by the second as she failed to dismiss him. If she didn't dismiss him verbally, unless she waved her hand, Neji would be forced to remain by her side until she released him from his duty. She could not wave so dismissively, as was her father's wont, but she couldn't force out the two words: thank you. Not with her father and cousin glaring at her.

She felt herself break out in a cold sweat. I can do it, she reminded herself…

Thank… you…

"One moment," Hanabi said sharply, tipping her cup back and drinking the lot in one go, "I have also finished, Neji-nii-san. You are dismissed."

Thank you.

Hinata was shaking by that point, she turned grateful eyes on her younger sister, who shrugged, her only acknowledgement of Hinata's gratitude were her quirked lips.

Hiashi sneered at his oldest child's ineptitude.

"When are you going to start taking your responsibilities seriously, Hinata?" He demanded, "One day you will be married, and you will be required to be well-versed in etiquette, running an entire household of your own. How can you manage that when you don't _speak?"_

He punctuated his last word by thumping the table with his fist, Hanabi's cup tipping to the floor with a tinkling crash.

"Why didn't you take her cup?" He bellowed at Neji, who bore his anger with a mild look of distaste.

"My apologies, Hiashi-sama," He murmured, placing the other cups safely in the kitchen, returning to sweep up the remains of the china.

Hinata tried to force out _I'm sorry, Otou-sama, _but the words would not come. The anger in Hiashi's eyes died down and his expression turned into disappointment.

"Why won't you try harder?" He asked, sounding frustrated, "As my heir, you will need to learn how to make speeches, motivate the workforce and generally become a capable leader. The way you are now… you need help."

"What do you suggest, Hiashi-sama?" Neji asked. For all his glares and cutting comments, there were times when Hinata believed he may actually care about her. He looked uneasy.

Hanabi wiped her mouth delicately, her eyes keen and perceptive.

"My mother." Hiashi declared finally, "She'll straighten her out in no time. She isn't one to allow laziness or shyness, whichever ailment plagues my daughter will be eradicated in no time."

Hinata had met her grandmother a few times when she was small, but her father had had a huge row with her a few years back and refused to see her again. Why would he want her to help Hinata?

Hanabi was obviously thinking the same, "Father, I understand that Grandmother is a very intelligent woman, but I believed you were no longer in contact with each other?"

Hinata so envied her younger sister. Tactful, pretty, intelligent and she could speak so eloquently…

Their father sighed and toyed with his napkin, "We speak on occasion. At any rate, she is the best person for the job. She will have Hinata talking in no time. That means I want you to actually try here, Hinata. Look at me. You will not be rude to your grandmother. You will answer her when she speaks to you. You will not embarrass me. Do you understand me?"

Hanabi's jaw clenched noticeably and Neji looked away from Hinata's reddening face.

She opened her mouth. _I understand. I do. Please, let me say the words. I understand._

Her throat ached as though invisible hands were squeezing it. Tears came to her eyes. She looked down at her lap, at her hands gripping each other, feeling her father's glare like a physical presence. Her face was hot and wet and she still couldn't force the words out.

"For God's sake!" Hiashi exploded up from the table, slamming his chair back and storming from the room, but not before he took the last piece of her self-esteem and crushed it with his words, "Why was I cursed with such a useless daughter?"

The door slammed behind him with a bang that echoed throughout the room.

Hanabi and Neji were silent.

Hinata couldn't even move, couldn't run from the room to cry in her room, could only sit in her hard, wooden seat, feeling the shame and humiliation burn through her.

_Useless._

xxxxxxxx

"I'm sure no one even remembers anymore," Ino said breezily, pushing Sakura through the corridor without giving her a chance to run, "Don't worry about it."

Sakura was about to reply when a group of girls walked past her, arm in arm and giggling almost hysterically. She shot them a glare and they squeaked, speeding up until they were out of reach.

"Sure," Sakura said dryly, "I'm sure they've all forgotten all about it."

"And we've reached Haruno Sakura's locker, thus concluding the tour of Craziest Landmarks in Konoha Progressive High School. See the fist-shaped dent and marvel at the sheer amount of crazy it must have taken to _dent metal with your bare hand_." Inuzuka Kiba called out loudly, the group of guys he was with chuckling away, clustered around her locker, casting glances her way.

"Ah!" Kiba said suddenly, acting as though he had only just spotted her, "The crazy herself approaches! Sakura!" He mimed thrusting a microphone in her face, "How did it feel to be named Most Likely to Run Someone Over this year? Do you own a car?"

"If you don't piss off," Sakura hissed through her clenched teeth, "I will ram a car down your fucking throat and drive you down the highway."

Kiba burst out laughing, "Wahaha! God, Sakura, I'm actually terrified! The plausibility of that threat alone is spine-chilling!"

He reached over to mess up her hair, still laughing. She grabbed his wrist and tried to twist it painfully, but annoyingly enough, he danced out of the way.

Ino, a veritable fountain of calm and placidity, tried to intervene, "Look, Kiba, Sakura's had a stressful couple of months and I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you –"

"Died in a fucking hole!" Sakura snapped.

Ino winced. She tried again, "- if you respected her enough to leave her alone."

Sakura's gut was boiling. The sight of Kiba and his friends killing themselves laughing over her was enough to set her off. She wanted to strike out, hit them until they stopped laughing and took her seriously –

"I can't respect a foul-mouthed, angry spoilt little brat who is just pissed her daddy won't up her allowance by a mere few thousand." Kiba put on a high voice, placing his hand on his hip, "But Daddy, I _need_ that car! I'm bored with my six jeeps and my Mercedes! I want a tank, Daddy, why won't you buy me a tank? I hate you Daddy, now I'll have to drive a _boring two month old car,_ urgh, you just don't understand me!"

Sakura lunged for him, dodging Ino when she shrieked and tried to pull her back. Kiba's amused expression dropped slightly as she came at him, fist drawn back, waiting for the strike and the flood of wonderful adrenaline –

It never came.

A blur intervened, leaping in between her and Kiba, grabbing her wrist and shoving him backwards.

An unhealthily thin male with a shock of blood-red hair stood before her, her wrist locked in his grip. He was pale, skin the colour of paper and just as fragile by the look of it. He had odd tattoos on his face – black circled around his piercing green eyes, and the word 'love' written in red on his forehead.

"Don't," He rasped, not looking her in the eye, "It isn't worth it."

Kiba had backed up by this point, his eyes rounded in shock, "Woah." He said, sounding as stunned by the appearance of the strange guy as she was.

"Get off of me!" Sakura tried to rip her arm free, but his grip was stupidly strong.

"Yeah, freak, get away from my best friend!" Ino shrieked, pushing the boy away. So much for the fountain of calm.

Maybe she was still feeling overprotective.

The boy shrugged off Ino's attempts to pry his hand off of Sakura's wrist.

"Are you the girl with the anger management issues?" The boy asked seriously, still not meeting her angry gaze.

Was that how she was known? Or did she have 'anger' tattooed on her forehead the way he had love?

"No," She spat, "Get off me."

Kiba snorted, having evidently gotten over his shock, "Yeah, she's got issues alright."

"I wasn't talking to you." The boy replied, his voice cold and hard, "If I let go of you, girl, will you attack him?"

Sakura felt like scolded child, squirming in embarrassment and shame in front of her father. She clenched her mouth shut against the tidal wave of angry words that wanted to flood out and nodded stiffly.

He let go of her wrist.

"If you believe she has anger management issues, why do you antagonise her?" The boy turned to Kiba, looking unimpressed, "Do you desire attention so greatly you need to anger people just so you feel noticed?"

Judging by the sudden redness of Kiba's cheeks, the strange boy had hit the nail on the head.

"Shut up!" Kiba yelled, "You don't know me!"

The boy shrugged carelessly and turned back to Sakura. He frowned and opened his palm. A snapped green band lay there, rubber and useless.

"I'm sorry, was this yours?" The boy held out the band that he had accidently broken off of her wrist.

The words 'HOPE, FAITH, COURAGE, STRENGTH,' were printed on the band.

She looked at it, horrified, and snatched it out of his palm. It had snapped neatly, she could maybe glue it back together, but she'd been wearing it for so long now… it had been a constant presence, the only thing that got her through –

Her arm felt bare and naked without it.

"You bastard…" Her voice was low and shaky, her fist had clenched automatically and even as the rage poured through her, the fact that her instinctive reaction to anger was to get ready to hit out scared the crap out of her.

"Sakura." Ino said quietly, putting her hand on her shoulder, "It's OK. He didn't mean it."

Kiba was staring at her. So were his friends, and the strange guy. She'd had enough of being stared at like a caged animal in a zoo. She knew what would happen. She'd storm off and they'd all turn to each other, wide-eyed and mock-solemn, though they'd be delighted to have something to gossip about for a while, and her reputation would take another knock. The state her reputation was in, she didn't think it could take a gentle tap, let alone a knock.

The strange boy was staring at her like he was reading her mind.

And suddenly, she didn't want to break anything, hit out or scream. She just wanted to get away. There was no point in running. They'd only follow her.

"I'm sorry for getting mad." She said dully, eyes on the floor, "I can buy a new wristband. Thanks for stopping me."

"C'mon, Ino, I want to have lunch before the bell." She said quietly, slowly rubbing the letters on the band with her fingers. She took a deep breath. _I am calm. I am fine._

Ino smiled at her, "Sure! Oh, one thing…"

She turned around and kicked Kiba on the shin, hard. He nearly fell over, clutching his leg, looking agonised, "What the hell, Ino?" He shouted, hopping.

"Oh please," Ino's pale eyebrow flickered upwards in disdain, eyes trailing down his leg, "I could have aimed slightly higher and _really_ done some damage. Stay away from us or you'll be sorry."

"Oh, so crazy is contagious now, is it? You used to be a nice girl." Kiba huffed.

Ino joined Sakura, slipping her arm in hers, grinning at her cheerfully. Sakura turned her head as they walked down the hall together.

The strange boy was examining the sign above her locker that said 'Haruno Sakura, Year 11.' It was unmistakeably her locker, given that there was a fist-shaped dent right in the middle of it.

He looked back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. He mouthed, "Deep breaths, Sakura."

She nodded very slightly and breathed in. She plastered a smile on her face and turned to Ino, "Thanks for sticking up for me, Ino."

The other girl looked pleasantly surprised.

"No problem, Forehead Girl," Ino mashed their cheeks together, grinning, surprising a giggle out of Sakura, "I'm starving! I hope all the healthy stuff hasn't gone already, _again."_

And as much as she would have liked to spend ages chatting to Ino about inane issues in their lives, her brain was stuck on one subject: the strange boy.

xxxxxxxx

It was raining again. Hinata sat in the cafeteria, looking out of the window. The basketball court was right outside, abandoned by the players. It looked quite lonely. She suddenly had a mad desire to go outside and stand on the court, just so the picture would look less lonely. But then again, with her there, it would probably look even sadder.

Her thoughts were growing maudlin again. She turned her attention to the plate in front of her. A single, limp sandwich. White bread, soggy lettuce, too-pink meat. Somehow unappetising.

Her stomach growled, so she picked up the sad little lunch and prepared to take a bite.

"Argh, Sasuke, I'm soaking!" A voice suddenly burst out. A blonde, very tanned male slipped by her table dressed in a basketball uniform, "Why did no one tell me practice was cancelled?"

"Because we assumed you'd be smart enough to look out the window and work it out for yourself." A dark-haired male replied calmly, eating a slice of pizza.

Hinata looked at his pizza. Her stomach growled louder. She dropped the sandwich.

If she could just… walk up to the dinner ladies and say to them, "Can I have pizza, please?"

Then she'd be happier.

But it was so much easier said than done. Just walking to the fridge where they kept the pre-made sandwiches was hard enough, feeling everyone's eyes on her back as she walked, she couldn't imagine opening her mouth and letting the words flow out.

She hadn't said a word in two months. She didn't know how the time had passed so quickly, but she couldn't even remember what the last thing she had said was – she just knew it had been to her father, and he hadn't liked it.

Why was she the useless one? She was the eldest. She was supposed to be the confident, capable older sister that Hanabi could look up to. Even Neji looked down on her.

The table she sat at was long and white, smeared with the remains of the last people who'd sat there, crumbs and sauce everywhere. She'd chosen this table because she knew quite well that no one would sit at such a messy table except her. She could sit alone in peace.

Except it wasn't peaceful. The people around her talked all at once, their voices blending into one big, senseless roar that made her want to cover her ears and silently scream.

For God's sake, she couldn't even buy her own lunch! She found it damn near impossible, passing the dinner lady the sandwich she had chosen under pressure, waiting as she scanned it, illogically convinced she wouldn't have enough money and would be forced to put the sandwich back, in front of everyone. But of course, that never happened and she always felt stupid for worrying afterwards.

She pictured her father's face if he knew just how stupid and useless she really was on the inside. The thought of it made her clutch her head and silently groan.

But when her arms moved, her plate tipped over the edge of the table. She desperately grabbed for it, but it slipped to the floor with what seemed to be a deafening crash.

Everyone stared at her.

She froze.

Her face boiled red, her hands shook and her stomach churned.

And then, a voice rang out in the silence, "Hey, sorry about your lunch! Wanna come share mine? It's ramen!"

It was the tanned, blonde boy.

He was grinning at her from his table, oblivious to her terror and shame.

She was fixed to the seat. She couldn't move. Everyone was watching.

"Aw, come on!" He called, evidently taking her silence as a rejection, "Your table's dirty too! There's a seat right here!" He pointed to the red stool beside him.

She wanted to. She wanted more than anything to be able to get up and walk calmly to his table, to sit beside him and make small talk, to say cool, witty things that would make the whole table laugh, to share pizza and ramen and friends.

But she couldn't –

But then, she saw it. His grin lit up his whole face like he meant it with every fibre of his being, and it was meant for _her._ He was looking at her like he wanted nothing more than for her to come sit with him too.

It was like a magnet. Like a ray of sunlight had fallen upon her on that dreary, wet day, and she suddenly wanted to bask in the warm and glory of it.

She felt herself stand. His smile widened.

Her legs felt like someone had replaced them with marshmallow. Every step was numb and wobbly.

She reached the table after what seemed like an age and managed to slowly sit down next to him. He smelt like the rain outside and of ramen.

"Hi!" He beamed at her, "What took you so long? I'm Uzumaki Naruto, the best student this school's ever seen! Who're you?"

The dark-haired boy was looking too. Naruto's beam was wide and friendly.

Everyone else in the room had gone back to what they were doing, chatting and picking at their food.

Her throat ached again, that familiar, frustrating pain she felt whenever she tried to force the words out.

She could do it.

She pictured Hanabi as she had appeared yesterday. The younger girl had been busily buzzing about in her sister's room, picking out clothes for the next day under the pretext of not trusting her sister's fashion sense, in reality so she didn't worry she was wearing something stupid.

"Hinata," Hanabi had said firmly, "There's no reason to let Father get to you. He's very difficult to please. This thing with Grandmother won't last. A few short meetings and that'll be it. If you don't want to talk, don't. It's overrated, anyway. Fools talk loudly, don't they? People with too many intelligent thoughts never talk because they're busy having stimulating conversation with themselves in their head. If you want to talk, you can do it. I believe in you."

Naruto was still grinning at her.

She took a deep breath and let her stiff shoulders relax, forcing the tension out.

She opened her mouth.

"I-" She managed, her voice cracked and croaky. Naruto looked encouraging, "I-I'm H-Hinata."

"Hi, Hinata-chan!" Naruto said cheerfully, "Let's be friends!"

She did it. She spoke.

For the first time in what felt like ages, she smiled, a very tiny, shy little smile.

xxxxxxxx

Right.

Always wanted to write about this sort of thing. Have never wrote from Hinata's presence even though I adore her, wanted to rectify that.

I thought that some mental issues could be applied to several Naruto characters, but when I thought of Hinata and Sakura, I immediately thought, _anxiety_ and _anger._

Their behaviour could be exaggerated very easily and turned into something more complex, I thought.

If Hinata reached the age of sixteen without ever meeting Naruto, without even being able to train as an outlet for her emotions, I thought her emotionally abusive father would verbally beat down her self-esteem, to the point where she might have selective mutism and social anxiety disorder.

If Sakura was pushed too far by certain things, I thought her anger could overcome her and become a real issue, so she now has anger issues.

I think I can adequately portray social anxiety disorder, but I'm not a very angry person, so I'm a bit worried about Sakura. If any readers suffer from anger issues or SAD, would you mind sharing your experiences and feelings with me? It would help the story's depth and realism, I think.

Kiba's an attention seeker, at least in Gaara's eyes.

Whenever I thought of Sakura whilst writing this, I thought her feelings were basically - angry everything and nothing, filled with rage with nothing to be angry at, just so angry and frustrated with the world, like being in a black hole where all emotion is crushed by your anger. I also thought she'd be very, very lonely and misunderstood.

Hinata's a desperately lonely character. She needs friends to rely on, but can't pluck up the courage to interact with anyone and forge friendships with them. Her father wants her to be better at everything, especially speaking, and she feels that she can never be the person he wants her to be. So, a lot of sadness and self-hatred.

Gaara's a mystery. Seemingly emotionless on the outside, a whole different person on the inside. His stoic, mostly calm nature might be just the thing that Sakura needs to put out that burning anger she has inside of her constantly.

Naruto is a simple, happy, adorable guy. He's got a big ego but doesn't know it, he genuinely thinks he's the best at everything when in fact he's mostly average. His bright enthusiasm and optimism might be the beacon that can light up Hinata's dark life.

When Hinata said something along these lines in the manga to Naruto: Your smile saved me!

I felt I understood her love for Naruto for the first time. With any luck, I can replicate her feelings in this fic.

I understand that Sakura in particular is quite OOC, but her anger and tough façade mask the true person within, who is much more similar to the canon version of her.

It's GaaSaku and NaruHina, naturally, but feel free to suggest other pairings :)

It won't all be darkness and angst, but issues are the driving force of this story. That, and romance! :D

Please let me know what you think of the story so far.

**Quick poll for fun:** Who is the fictional character you relate to the most?

No suggestions.


	2. They get much louder each time I speak

Anger is short-lived madness. – Horace

Panic is a sudden desertion of us, and a going over to the enemy of our imagination. ~_Christian Nevell Bovee_

* * *

**Thought No. 104**

_Sometimes I feel very, very small. I have a recurring dream when I'm lying in the bottom of a well, and even though there's no pain, I know my back is broken and I can't move. There's a circle of light above me, bright and inviting, and I can't even reach towards it._

Sakura took the pen away from the paper and chewed the end of it. There. Another secret. She tore off the strip of paper with writing in it and shoved it in the back of her bottom drawer.

Inspiration struck once more.

**Thought No. 105**

_Some people like to say 'we're all dying anyway.' I want to say to them, no, actually, dying is a physical state in which you are near death. The fact that one day you will die doesn't mean you are dying right now, believe me. Stop being morbid._

**Thought No. 106**

_Speaking of morbid, sometimes I feel like something is chewing away at me, leaving me piece by piece until I'm broken and torn. Do I have a logical reason for this? No. Do I hate it? Yes. It's like pain is constantly gnawing at me._

**Thought No. 107**

_When I feel calm, totally calm, I panic that something is wrong because I'm so used to being angry. I used to get that calm state from alcohol, but I can't even have that now, so I'm frightened of being calm without reason._

**Thought No. 108**

_I listen to soft piano music a lot. Clear, high voices of female singers. That makes the pain and the anger settle down to a dull roar. But I love angry rock and the adrenaline I feel after listening to someone scream their feelings to the sound of screeching music. I want to start a band someday. I'm sure there's some role I could fill. I could hold the bottled water._

**Thought No. 109**

_I'm not even the main character of my dreams. Isn't that funny? I'd settle for a supporting role. Fiction is all very pretty and neat and sparkly, isn't it? I'd like to live in a young adult novel, where the troubles are trivial and the pain is minimal._

**Thought No. 110**

_I write songs. Crappy, angry songs written in pen so the lyrics are smeared and messed up – just black words on notepaper with scribbled hearts and skulls in the margins. I'm a big old angry cliché, and that's just grand. Being aware of how much a stereotypical 'angry girl' teenager you are makes you embarrassed by your own behaviour. Am I typical or atypical? My self-esteem needs to make up its mind._

**Thought No. 111**

_I used to keep a diary, but my mum found it and went mad. I guess I kind of spammed the F word a bit too much and the grammar could have been improved but did she really need to throw it away? Sure, I said some mean things about her friends, but she does that too. Should I throw her away?_

**Thought No. 112**

_I've only been back at school for a day and I already have a new nickname. 'Angry Girl,' oh, it's so original, so witty, I'm lost for fucking words. Why is it that even stupid, moronic people can say stupid, moronic things that can still hurt so much to hear? Honestly, these people couldn't even spell their own names right, yet I still get upset if they call me crazy._

**Thought No. 113**

_I'm not crazy, by the way. I have it certified, isn't that handy? The psychologist said she thinks I have anger problems, but I won't tell her the truth so she can't say anything for sure. What's there to say?_

**Thought No. 114**

_I need to stop writing these things, I'm running out of ink and problems._

Sakura sighed and ripped out the entire page, securing it in the drawer. She took out the key she wore as a necklace and locked it. It was the only way she could get her thoughts out of her head but safely locked away so that no one else could read them.

She wrote down everything that bugged her, hurt her, upset her, made her laugh, made her cry, and most importantly, everything that made her _angry_. It could be trivial, like her hatred for people who went crazy over attractive celebrities and genuinely believed they were in love with them, or a vital, ever-present rage that never left her thoughts.

She liked to lie on her bed and work through her problems in her mind. If she didn't give herself some time to sort things out, she ended up with a cramped mind full of issues and annoyances that usually bubbled over to the point where she'd start using her fists instead of her pen to spell out her anger.

A guy filled with rage, who threatened people frequently, who had a history of violence – he was frightening, someone worthy of respect and wariness.

A girl with anger issues had 'PMS' and was worthy only of laughter.

She didn't like being laughed at.

But then again, sometimes she just wanted to be a normal girl who watched normal TV programmes and chatted to her normal friends at school about them, who never felt like locking herself away because she'd punched someone again, who never felt like a monster.

So she was bitter and sarcastic and caustic and that was all fine and dandy when you enjoy easily making barbed comments to your enemies, but it sucked majorly when you wanted some friends but they didn't like your constant irritability.

Ino tried. She really, really tried. But Ino was a Barbie Princess at heart, she liked butterflies and sparkly things, and her best friend, her true friend was exactly the same as her. Sakura couldn't be that person any more.

Sakura was darkness and rage and Ino just couldn't understand that.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and looked at the broken green band in her palm. That strange boy had seemed apologetic after he broke it but she had still been filled with such rage…

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled a number, lying back on the bed.

"Mum?" She said the moment the phone connected, "I require large amounts of bacon. Can this be done?"

"Why don't you come downstairs and see?" Her mother asked dryly.

Sakura looked down at her bedroom floor as though she could see the kitchen through the carpet. She screwed up her face.

"I don't think I can make it that far, Mum." She said seriously, fiddling about with the band and frowning.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to make you bacon and then bring it to you upstairs?"

"Brown sauce would be lovely, thank you."

"Would you like bread with this feast?"

"Hmm… two slices, possibly encasing the bacon… almost like a sandwich…"

"Any other dietary requirements?"

"Glue," Sakura said quickly. Her mother snorted down the phone, "Not that kind. Do we have any glue?"

"I don't think so, your father used it all up on his last project."

"Oh. Damn. OK. I'll just use tape or something."

"Tell me you aren't going to tape this sandwich together. Please. I need to hear it from you, so I don't think I completely failed at teaching my only child basic health and safety."

"Believe it or not, glue and bacon tastes fantastic together. Thanks Mum."

Sakura hung up the phone and rolled back over on her bed to face her laptop.

After a while of searching the internet and scowling at random factoids the webpages threw up for her, she heard her mother coming up the stairs.

She glanced at the screen.

"_renal cell cancers (RCC). They are sometimes called renal adenocarcinoma. There are different subtypes of renal cell cancer which can be identified by looking at the cells under a microscope. The most common subtype is clear cell. Other less common types include papillary (or chromophilic), chromophobic, oncocytic, collecting duct and sarcomatoid."_

She closed the webpage just before her mother knocked on the door. They'd talked about knocking before – Sakura had explained how it was _absolutely essential_ to her happiness and privacy and her mother had rolled her eyes and grudgingly agreed. Sakura figured she was afraid her daughter was engaging in satanic rituals in her bedroom, and if she allowed her the split second it took to knock, she'd have time to hide the slaughtered goat and terrified virgin in her wardrobe.

"I come bearing bacon." Her mother called through the door.

Sakura grinned, "Come in and place your offering on the table."

Her mother sighed audibly, but deftly opened the bedroom door with the crook of her elbow.

She looked around the room. "On the table… where?"

Her room was covered in acres of crap. Energy drinks and plates littered the tables. Clothes got together and started families on her carpet, lying around in masses of cotton and silk. She hadn't looked under her bed in a month, but she was certain there was a monster that specified in spewing out random items of garbage living under there. She had no other explanation for just how untidy her room could get.

Books were piled up on the floor, they only things with any semblance of order, neatly stacked in every spare inch of otherwise bare carpet. It made getting to the safe haven (the bed) challenging. She had rehearsed the journey many times, but she found that twirling around the first stack of books by the door, tiptoeing around the clothes and plates and leaping wildly onto the bed usually did the trick.

Her mother, holding a plate of bacon and bread (commonly known as a sandwich) and a glass of something fizzy, was incapable of twirling, tiptoeing or leaping, for that matter.

Sakura held her hands out and accepted the offering personally, smiling at her mother in thanks.

"Right," Her mother said in that authoritative tone only parents possessed, "This room. Tidy. Now."

"Later." Sakura focused on her sandwich.

"No, right after you eat your lunch. Look at this mess! For God's sake –" She stopped at the strained look on Sakura's face, "I'm sorry. It would be a big help if you could keep your room tidy."

Sakura counted to ten mentally. It never helped, but she liked to conform to her mother's expectations. Besides, it gave her time to formulate a reply.

"OK." She said shortly. Boy, she was just bubbling over with wit and eloquence today, wasn't she?

"By the way, we have a visitor from your school downstairs." Her mother crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway, "A _boy."_

Sakura's heart leapt. That strange redhead boy…?

"Serious, quiet boy. Keep him company while I go pick up your father."

"What? Mum, no! I have things to do!" Sakura protested. How could she possibly go downstairs looking like this? Well, to be honest, she didn't care what she looked like. But she could do with less rumours floating around about her mental instability.

Her hat was shaped like Winnie the Pooh's head and she wore knee-high rainbow socks, denim shorts and a yellow T-shirt that said '**I'M WITH CRAZY :)**' in big, thick black letters.

"Like what?"

"I have – I have to tidy!" She said triumphantly.

"This enthusiasm for cleanliness is rather sudden, don't you think?" Her mother picked up a sock and gave it a disgusted look, "After you keep him company, you can clean the whole house, just to rid you of this sudden urge to tidy."

She left the room with a smirk, tossing the sock behind her.

Sakura pummelled her pillow for a while until she felt better. She gave the bacon sandwich and drink a wide berth, since they were the reason she now had to tidy everything.

She grabbed some tape out of her drawer and tried to fix the band. It just kept slipping off and finally she threw the tape and the band at the wall.

"_Fuck." _She gritted out. She'd have to order another wristband from the internet and then ambush the postman before he got up the path to prevent her parents getting the package first. Joy. Well, the alternative was explanations and the ensuing recriminations, tears and rebukes, blah blah blah.

She'd kept quiet this long, forever wouldn't be too tricky after a couple of years practice, right?

She'd mastered the art of sullen silence in the face of interrogation long ago.

The front door slammed shut as her mother left the house.

She slipped off her bed, landing on her tiptoes to manoeuvre around the piles of rubbish and books. She bit her lip and picked up the fallen wristband, holding it tightly.

Right. Time to sit in sullen silence with the redheaded strange boy. Yay.

She made it downstairs without incident and pushed the living room door open.

Oh.

It wasn't him.

The guy sitting on her couch, sipping tea delicately and staring into space, was pretty. He had odd, light cloudy eyes and long dark hair that spilled about his shoulders. His facial features wouldn't have looked out of place on a statue of a particularly fine-looking angel. Sickening, really. He was prettier than she was! Right, that was it, she hated him.

He looked up at her, blinking his long eyelashes slowly, every movement languid and relaxed.

She realised she was peering at him through the crack in the door like a maniac and straightened up, stepping into the room.

"Hi." She said awkwardly, looking away the moment he made eye contact.

His gaze felt measuring.

After a few moments of intense, agonizing silence, he spoke up, his voice condescending yet pleasantly modulated, "And you would be?" He asked, resting his chin on the back of his hand, eyes on her face.

"Santa Claus." She said dryly, not liking the tone of his voice at all.

His eyes closed halfway, leaving only a strip of pale lilac to show. He dragged one pale hand across his mouth, using one finger to wipe away some excess tea from his lips.

Sakura watched the movement closely, mouth hanging open gormlessly.

"Well, Santa Claus," The boy said, his voice articulate and precise, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

Sakura frowned, confused.

"I didn't get a pony last year like I asked." The boy yawned.

She burst out laughing.

The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly.

"My name is Hyuuga Neji." He offered her a tiny nod in greeting, sounding formal.

"Well, my real name is Haruno Sakura, but my friends call me St. Nick." She replied with a smile.

He eyed her strangely, "You go to my school."

She sighed, "I see my reputation precedes me."

"Reputation?" He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, looking intrigued.

Huh. Interesting. He hadn't heard anything. Yet.

"Nothing," She forced a smile, "Just a few rumours flying around about me."

"True or not?"

"Hmm… exaggerated. Damaging, anyway. What are you doing in my living room? I didn't wish for a boy to magically show up in my house. At least, not that I remember."

He sipped his tea, holding it differently than she was used to, all delicate and precious, as though holding the mug too tightly would shatter it. How adorable.

"Your mother's colleagues. I came to the hospital for training, wanting hands-on experience, and they sent me here to ask your mother. Her reaction makes it obvious that they were messing me about." He sounded quite bitter about it.

"Can't wait for medical school, huh?" She said with a short laugh. He wanted to be a nurse, or a doctor, or whatever… what did it matter? She'd had enough experiences with the lot of them.

Her mother, for one.

He stroked the rim of the mug, looking thoughtful, "I merely wished to get ahead of the curve. Work experience is vital in such a competitive field, you know. Your mother assured me that she would be back soon, and that she would help me study these."

He pointed to a stack of dusty, heavy-looking textbooks by his foot. They looked around about… eighties to nineties dated. Practically useless, considering how often medicine changed.

She told him as much and was surprised by his frown.

"You can talk," He said, pointing to her hand, "If that's a kidney cancer band, it's the old version, dark green. You should have the new one… I think it's orange."

She stared at him, shocked. He knew what the band was from… what, memory? Had he actually memorised what all of the cancer awareness wristbands' colours meant?

She tucked it into her pocket.

"Just don't… don't even mention it, please." She said with forced calm. Great, now the memories were just _flooding_ back.

"Alright, I won't talk about it." Neji said, serenely composed, seemingly unaffected by her sudden change in mood.

"Thanks." Sakura said gratefully. Plenty of people took comfort in talking to people about their problems, bad memories and such, but she preferred to keep things to herself. It was her problem and no one else's. Besides… to talk about it would mean dragging up painful, personal memories. She didn't want to do that.

Neji seemed like a pretty cool guy.

xxxxxxxx

Hinata sat down on the old, creaky leather sofa, breathing in incense fumes and close to hyperventilating with fear.

"Be with you in a moment." A woman's voice, matured and deepened with age, called through the bead curtain separating the living room and the kitchen. Hinata could just about see a dark figure of a woman through the curtain walking around slowly.

Her father had driven her here with the warning that if she embarrassed him, she could look forward to being grounded and deprived of dinners for the next week. He was just annoyed because Neji had managed to slip away without explaining or asking for permission.

The front door had been unlocked and she'd moved into the next room without thinking, following the sound of the woman's voice telling her to come through.

And now she sat there alone in the darkened room, the smoke from the incense stick curling around her face thickly, squeezing her hands together until they hurt.

When her father spoke of her coming to see her grandmother, he'd almost acted as though she was going for a miracle cure of her shyness, and that she was sure to come back talkative and cheerful.

She was absolutely certain she'd return home a nervous wreck. She had visions of an old woman who looked vaguely like Hiashi shouting at her until she cried.

Besides, no one could 'cure' uselessness.

The beads rattled against each other as the woman walked through the curtain.

Her grandmother was a tall, thin woman with white hair that she kept long and hanging down her back in a silvery curtain. She had dark eyeshadow and matching lipstick on, making her complexion chalky white and unhealthy-looking.

"You must be my eldest granddaughter, Hinata." She drawled, sitting down in the armchair opposite the couch, "My son managed to produce actual offspring after all. Colour me surprised."

Hinata swallowed and nodded, not daring to look up at the older woman.

"So," She said, sounding brisk and no-nonsense, "You don't speak. He says that you are rude, wilful and disobedient. That you lack discipline, basic eloquence and respect."

Hinata's head got lower and lower with every cruel word.

"But," Her grandmother said sharply, "My son is also an idiot."

Hinata couldn't stop herself from gasping and looking up at her, aghast.

The old woman smiled ruefully, "I hold my hands up and admit, of my two children, one was wonderful and the other is a fool. Hiashi blusters about, throwing about harsh words and criticism, but he is blind to his own faults. The moment he called me up and told me that he had a silent daughter, I knew where the fault lay."

Hinata knew what was coming. Her father had said it enough. _Laziness! Outright disobedience and poor behaviour!_

"With him, dear child, with him." She said, looking intently at her granddaughter, "There is always a reason for a child with problems and those problems are usually caused by the parents. I want to make one thing very, very clear now if we are to do these little weekly visits. You will absolutely not at any point, feel forced to speak. If we spend the hour in total silence it wouldn't bother me. I will never try to force speech out of you. Shouting at the deaf never helps them hear, why would it help a mute speak? No. I agreed to these visits because I believed I could help you, and I will do everything in my power to do so. It is a shame you weren't born in my era, Hinata. Your parents would have been pleased with a quiet child."

A fat old cat, white and fluffy, sauntered into the living room. It looked around the room, its blue eyes fixing themselves on Hinata. It jumped onto her lap and purred, digging its claws into her thighs.

Hinata felt tears come to her eyes. This was so unexpected, so kind, so unlike what she had imagined would happen –

"For the first hour," Her grandmother said, holding the remote up with a smile, "We will watch my programmes in complete silence. After that, if you can manage it, you can say one thing about any of the shows. If you don't want to, simply shake your head. I'll make a spot of tea and a bit of lunch – how does mackerel on toast and a slice of lemon cake suit you?"

Hinata swallowed again, trying to clear the blockage in her throat.

"No, it's fine, dear, just nod or shake your head."

No.

She could do this.

Just think of Naruto…

"T-thank you." She stammered, face violently red and trembling.

"It's no trouble, sweetheart," The old woman said, sitting back with a pleased twinkle in her eye, "I'll be happy to assist you in whatever you need."

Hinata mouthed the words 'thank you,' again when her voice failed to respond.

The fat old cat kept purring and purring as she stroked it, a shy smile coming to her face when she looked down at it.

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**Thought No 115**

_Hyuuga Neji has a very pretty face for a boy._

* * *

Hmmm… still setting up character stuff, working out details and things. Need to name Hinata's grandmother, would like it to begin with H and be Japanese… Does she have a name? Have we met Hiashi's mother in canon?

Wanted to show Sakura and her mother have an odd, fractured relationship. Probably more on that in the next chapter.

Neji is in Sakura's living room? Did you expect that? XD

Thank you for all of your reviews! Thank you to **EmpressofEvilBunnies** for the advice on anger issues :)

Second chapter already, my my…

The chapter title is from a song called Smile in the Crowd by Durutti Column, apparently :)

Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter :) I love hearing from you all!

See you later, my dears!

**Quick poll for fun: **All of the characters from Naruto are on a very widely-spaced cliff edge. You have to choose one to save and one to push. Basically, who are your favourite and least favourite characters from Naruto?

No poll suggestions.

I'm pretty sure I've asked this poll question in a different story but, oh well!


	3. Cause I'm awful just to see, Oh my agony

Quotes:

Anger - Anger, if not restrained, is frequently more hurtful to us than the injury that provokes it. – _Seneca_

Anxiety - Nerves and butterflies are fine - they're a physical sign that you're mentally ready and eager. You have to get the butterflies to fly in formation, that's the trick. _~Steve Bull_

* * *

Her feet were getting wet as she walked to school. She knew it was childish, but Hinata absolutely adored jumping in puddles. She would look around, make absolutely sure no one was around, and leap, splashing water everywhere. Her happiest memory was holding her mother's hand in the park, wearing big waterproof boots and jumping in every puddle.

The sun was shining through the grey clouds, making the water on the road sparkle. Everything was glistening in the weak sunlight after the rain had drenched it all the previous day. Hinata touched a hedge and felt little drops of water slid down her palm. Her dry hand clutched a violin case protectively.

She would be early for school, but wasn't she always? If she waited, the driver would give her and Hanabi a lift. But if she waited, Karin would be there. Hinata hurried up at the mere thought of the other girl. Karin and her friends always came to school at the same time, but if Hinata got there first she could hide inside the library until class.

Her first meeting with her grandmother had gone unbelievably well. She'd sat there in silence for one, peaceful hour, happily stroking the cat and listening to her grandmother talk about teenage pregnancies.

When she'd returned to the house, her father had demanded to know how it had gone, clearly expecting a verbal response. Hinata had smiled and nodded her head, to his annoyance, but Hanabi had distracted him with a question.

She walked through the entrance gates of the school, huddled in her big coat, fluffy hood hiding her face. Her hair peeked out, long dark strands folding around her scarf. She always dressed for winter, no matter what the weather was. She didn't care if she melted to death in the summer, as long as no one could see her hips or her stomach.

There were a few other students there already, kicking about a ball half-heartedly, blinking in the sudden sunlight.

"Oi, Sasuke-bastard!" A voice roared from behind her. She jumped violently, shocked, as a lightly muscled tanned blonde shot past her, in basketball uniform. Naruto. Her face immediately flushed red.

The boy with the ball looked up and scowled at Naruto.

"Got here early for once, didn't I?" Naruto beamed, aiming a friendly kick at Sasuke's legs, who dodged carelessly, "The old man dropped me off."

"I thought Kushina had the car today." Sasuke swiped at Naruto's face, wincing when his fist actually connected, "Dodge quicker, dobe."

"Argh! Sasuke-bastard!" Naruto yelled, holding his red cheek and glowering at his friend, "That really hurt, you know… She does have the car. He just bought one for me yesterday, early birthday present. You know how the old man can't keep a secret. He burst out, 'Son, we got you a car and I have been wanting to tell you that for three months.' Then Mom slapped him upside the head and took me out to see it. It's _orange_, Sasuke-bastard, orange, have you ever seen an orange car? I sure haven't and I was –"

"Dobe, shut up, it's too early for your babble." Sasuke rubbed at his own forehead, his scowl growing. Hinata felt a flicker of sympathy. Headaches? She had so many herself, tension aches that made her whole skull throb in agony.

But she had really wanted to hear about Naruto's orange car, his parents and everything else she didn't know about him. From his grin to his boots, everything about Naruto was bright and fascinating.

The clothes that hung in Hinata's wardrobe were mostly dull colours, white, beige, grey and most of all, black. Her own hair that she hid behind was dark and fell down to her waist. Her eyes had often been described as colourless. Her skin was pale.

Naruto dressed up the school uniform with bright little touches, a blue-green crystal necklace dancing at his chest, an obscenely orange jacket and big, ugly matching boots. He looked like a surfer with his deeply tanned skin and sun-bleached blonde hair. But the brightest, most beautiful thing about him, surpassed only by his grin, were his sky-blue eyes.

Hinata hung back, hood over her face, thickly-lashed eyes looking at the two of them talking and playing around, mesmerised. That kind of carefree happiness… It was like waking up after a stormy night, looking out of your window and seeing the sun shining in a deep blue sky with birds singing. She wanted to talk to them. Wanted to thank Naruto for his easy-going nature, his cheerful smile, because those were the things that had broken through her silence.

Thank you, she mouthed at his back. Sasuke caught sight of her staring at them and frowned at her a little, but only for a moment, like she wasn't worth more than ten seconds of scrutiny. Maybe she wasn't.

Naruto turned his head to see what Sasuke had glanced at. His smile grew blinding. Hinata shrank back.

"Yo! What's your name again?" Naruto bounded over to her like an enthusiastic puppy and, displaying an alarming lack of awareness for her personal space, pulled her hood down to peer at her face.

"It's Hinata, moron." Sasuke grunted after following his friend at a much more casual pace.

"Eh? How'd you know that?"

"She introduced herself yesterday. Don't you remember, idiot? Her name's Hyuuga Hinata." Sasuke emphasised the name as if it would better engrave itself on Naruto's memory if he said he just right.

Hinata looked at him questioningly, had she told them she was a Hyuuga yesterday…?

"We're distantly related." Sasuke said reluctantly in response to her silent question, "My dad's related to every family with money on this side of the world. I'm Uchiha Sasuke."

Hinata's eyebrows shot up. An Uchiha attending her school? Had her father known? There was no real, tangible rivalry between the two families, but the fact that they were both well-known for two things, money and inbreeding, meant they tended to grate on each other when together.

Her father had once dismissively stated that the Uchihas had so many connections they might as well not have bothered making them. She never understood that, but Hanabi had privately explained her own theory to her – their father was jealous of their power and wealth, which certainly outshone their own. Hinata hated that kind of mind-set, the ugly side of human nature, scraping away all manners and compassion, ending up with a desperate need to get ahead of everyone else. Like in horror movies when all friendship and kindness was eschewed in favour of survival. She wanted to believe people were better than that.

Like Naruto, who was looking increasingly more and more shocked.

"Whoa, how are you related?" His mouth was gaping open like a fish as he aimed his accusing statement at Sasuke, "You didn't tell me you had relatives here!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes, "I didn't _know_, dobe. I only knew she was a Hyuuga because of her eyes."

When you were a quiet, obedient kind of girl, people liked to talk about you like you weren't there. Or maybe they didn't realise that the pale, silent girl could actually comprehend what they were saying.

"Her eyes?" Naruto swivelled round to examine her, ignoring or not noticing her squirms of embarrassment. Her eyes were quite possibly her worst feature. They were big and round and her eyelashes were thick and long. But those weren't the bad parts, the colour was. Her eyes were so pale and ghostly that she'd creeped people out by staring at them long enough. And now, Mr Sunshine, happiest guy alive, was staring straight into her eyes, head tilted to the side curiously.

"Pretty." He commented, without a trace of irony in his voice.

Hinata stared up at him, breathless. Pretty. He'd called her eyes pretty.

"You play basketball?" Naruto suddenly beamed at her, obviously bored of the whole Sasuke's-related-to-Hinata-somehow (probably through extremely distant incest) issue.

She blinked at him, aware of the violin case in her hand and her long, painstakingly shaped nails, her only attempt to feminise her appearance.

Was this what she looked like to near-strangers? A possible basketball player?

She shook her head.

"Aw, c'mon, it's easy!" Naruto laughed, "We'll just toss the ball about a bit and you can tell me all about yourself, Hinata-chan."

It was sad and pathetic that hearing this boy say her name made her feel so happy. Acknowledged. Made real by his voice.

And she couldn't soften the blow of her rejection, mixing her head shake with some polite words. She could only shake her head again, hoping her eyes could adequately communicate her apology.

They couldn't.

Naruto's smile died down to a neutral frown, "Huh. OK, Sasuke-bastard, go find Kiba or someone. If it's just you and me playing we'll kill each other."

Sasuke looked very much like he wanted to roll his eyes again but just walked off without a word.

Naruto was suddenly awkward without his silent, stoic companion.

"So, Hinata-chan… guess you're new here?" He said in a hopeful attempt to strike up a conversation.

This time, Hinata tried a smile and shook her head once more.

"You don't talk much, huh?" He observed.

She hesitated, not wanting to shake her head again. She always felt stupid when people pressed conversations on her. Couldn't they see the words frozen in her throat? The stammering air when she tried to speak and nothing came out… It was humiliating.

Her mouth pursed, shaping the word 'no.' She couldn't voice it, but Naruto seemed to understand.

"Heh, I know plenty of people like that. Guy called Shino, he practically never speaks and when he does it's all creepy. Even Sasuke doesn't speak a lot of the time. Hey, maybe it's a family thing!" He seemed genuinely enthused by his idea.

Expert now at conveying subtle emotion in facial expressions, Hinata screwed up her face to indicate her lack of faith in his suggestion and he grinned, not one of his easy smiles, a sincerely amused one.

"It's funny, I know you aren't talking back or anything, but I feel like you are, you know?" Naruto chatted away, "It's probably 'cause I'm so used to talking to Sasuke-bastard – whoops, didn't mean to swear – and it's like having a conversation with a brick wall. So, it's cool."

Was he reassuring her?

"Hinata-sama." A clipped, cold voice behind her.

She froze. Naruto frowned at her sudden unease, glancing at the guy behind her who had spoken.

Neji walked to Naruto's side and glared at him, Hanabi at his heels.

"What are you doing?" Neji had a gift for spitting his words out like knives. Hinata felt every one like a blow.

Her father had made it clear that although this was one of the better schools in the area, there would be people here that were unscrupulous or simply not worthy of interacting with. He'd given them warnings not to make friends with people who were likely to just want to sponge off their money or use them in any way. He'd even warned Neji.

Neji acted like a bodyguard when out of the house, mixed with a pit-bull. He enjoyed snapping at those who got too close, who presumed too much or were just plain unsuitable. Hinata believed it was both the conditioning his uncle had enforced upon him to believe he had to serve his cousins in every way, and the freedom of outside that had him reacting so poorly to people he wasn't related to.

With the Hyuuga family, there was 'them' and then there were 'others.'

Judging by the look in Neji's eyes, he classed Naruto as an other.

Hinata couldn't reply, her cousin knew she couldn't and yet still he pressed, his glare hardening.

"Hey, I'm Uzumaki Naruto," He started to introduce himself with his traditional breezy smile.

Neji looked at him like he was dirt, staring at the hand he had put out to offer a shake in greeting. If looks could kill, Naruto's hand would have crumbled to dust under the sheer weight of Neji's disdainful glare.

"Good for you." Neji drawled.

Naruto's hand twitched. His tanned face flushed red, his neck turning the same colour. He swallowed and pulled his hand back.

Hinata opened her mouth to defend him. Neji's withering glare fell upon her and the words died in her throat.

"Neji-nii-san," Hanabi said, bored, "I'm going to go talk to my friends. See you later."

Why, Hinata wanted to ask, why was Hanabi allowed friends when she wasn't?

One look at Neji told her everything she needed to know. Because Hinata was weak and needed to be protected, sheltered from those who would take advantage of her.

She was the older sister. She was supposed to be the one Hanabi looked up to.

"You Hinata-chan's brother, then?" Naruto made a stab at friendly conversation once again.

"Her cousin." Neji looked mildly surprised Naruto hadn't started yelling or stormed off yet, "And I'm sure she has somewhere to be. Violin practice, Hinata-sama?"

"Why do you call her Hinata-sama, if she's your cousin?" Naruto scrunched his nose up in confusion, creditably ignoring Neji's icy glare.

Neji _hated_ having to acknowledge the status difference between he and his cousins. He threw Hinata a filthy look and spat, "Because she is my _better._"

Hinata's face fell. She wasn't better than anyone, least of all Neji, strong, capable Neji.

Naruto saw her expression and the confusion on his face deepened.

"Your better? What the hell does that even mean?" He said incredulously.

"I'm not." Hinata said, so very quietly and faintly that the two others barely heard her.

Neji's head jerked around and he stared at her, amazed. He hadn't heard her speak in two months, not with Hanabi's gentle words, not with Neji's icy insults and not even with her father leaning close to her face, hands gripping the arms of the chair she sat in, shouting at her to speak up.

She had stayed silent, not out stubbornness, out of shyness or inability or something else.

So what had changed?

Naruto was oblivious to Neji's shock, "You're not what?"

Her jaw clenched, her grip on her violin case strengthening. She would say this. This, at least, was too important. Neji needed to know.

Neji watched something like pain flicker over his cousin's face as she struggled to answer the direct question.

"…Better." She whispered finally.

Naruto's confusion cleared away, his frown fading as he really looked at her, maybe for the first time.

Neji looked at her for the longest moment. Hanabi, for all her confidence and eloquence, had never once claimed to be anything less than above Neji. Hinata had said it with her precious few words.

Eventually he simply nodded, looked between Hinata and Naruto and muttered, "If he bothers you, just look at me and I'll come back over."

Hinata mustered a smile, knowing she never would, not even if Naruto turned nasty.

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It was gonna be a damn fucking shitty day. Her leg was hurting again. Just the right, always the right one. Sakura rolled over in bed and breathed out into the pillow, feeling the ache going through her bone, wanting to shake her leg, throw the pain off.

She slid out of bed, tripping over her leg and landing on a stack of magazines.

When she got downstairs, her mother was talking to her father in her favourite passive-aggressive way.

"Darling, I think she deserves a break, don't you?" She said pleasantly, glaring daggers at her husband.

Sakura's father chewed on his toast, leaning against the counter, getting crumbs on his suit, "It's not a case of 'deserves,'" He said thickly through his mouthful of food, "She 'needs' stability, her education, her friends. We can't just give her days off whenever we feel like it."

"She was having nightmares again." Her mother whispered.

Sakura stood in the hall and breathed out shakily. When would her mother stop checking on her in the night?

Her father fell silent.

Sakura chose that moment to noisily enter the room, plastering an innocent look on her face as though she hadn't just been listening to them argue about her.

"Sakura!" Her mother smiled widely, "Take a seat, I'll fix you up with something."

"Heroin, please." Sakura responded dryly.

Her mother sucked in a breath and looked at her reproachfully, "Toast should do you good."

Sure it would. Just like the 'all-greens diet' and the healthy shakes and all of the fruit had. With all the good Sakura had consumed over the past few months, she was pretty sure she was full.

Sakura sat at the little round table and tried to keep the pain out of her expression.

"Sweetheart, take your meds."

"I'll be fine." Sakura said stubbornly. Damn things always made her feel queasy.

"If you don't take them, the pain will get worse. They'll only last four hours, so take some with you."

Sakura sighed, taking the little pills her mother was offering her way. She'd gotten good at swallowing them now, at least. At first she'd hated it and they'd given her liquid crap that tasted as bad as it looked.

"Eat your breakfast first, then take the pills." Her father reminded her, raising his eyebrows at her.

She slowly at the toast her mother had placed in front of her. It tasted like cardboard. Finally, she finished it and took the pills.

"Thanks." She muttered, pushing her plate away.

"Is Ino going to be in school today? I can ring and check…"

"There's no point." Sakura said sullenly.

She saw her mother mouth 'bad day' at her husband, who winced.

Her parents often had mouthed conversations with each other as though Sakura was too stupid or blind to notice. She liked to cut in on their silent conversations with snarky comments, making them jump.

"Darling, if Ino isn't there, maybe it would be best if you stayed –"

"No, I'm going to school." Sakura said resolutely, "And don't call my teachers or bother Ino on her mobile. I'll be fine, OK?"

"It's only her second day back," Her father said quietly, "Give her a chance, love."

Her mother sighed, before beginning to slowly and methodically clean the dishes, "OK. I'll be at the hospital today, they've got some new interns who need supervising. That Neji boy might be here later on, I've decided to train him up a bit, one, to wipe the smirks off of my colleagues' faces and two, because he has a lot of potential."

Ooh, Neji.

Sakura smirked and handed her plate to her mother, "Sure, I'll keep him company."

She grabbed her school bag, privately hoping Ino _was_ in today, and made to leave.

"Sweetheart," Her mother stopped her with one soapy, wet hand, looking confused, "Don't forget that. You had a bad time of it last night, don't think I couldn't hear. I don't want you pushing yourself too hard."

Sakura gave her mother a long, measured look, and grabbed the metal walking stick that rested next to the door.

She took a step with it, her leg awkward and stiff, and immediately felt her other leg flare with pain. Tears sprang to her eyes. It never ended. It had been so long, and yet it still fucking hurt. Her mother stepped forward as though to comfort her.

Sakura got the door open with difficulty and tripped down the step, feeling the sun hit her face.

"You forgot to take more meds with you!" Her father called after her, "Don't walk to school, I can give you a lift!"

She shook her head fiercely and stomped off, little daggers of pain slicing through her legs with every step.

The days when she just stayed in bed and demanded bacon were the best. Her mother was cheerful and in her element when she could just give in to her instincts and mother Sakura. Her father occasionally came to her room and cracked jokes. Those were the days she felt almost happy and optimistic.

Other days, she didn't want help from anyone and fiercely resented her lack of independence.

It was a ten minute walk. It took Sakura half an hour.

xxxxxxxx

Kiba perked up at the sight of her, grin lighting up his face, "Hey, Sakura! Punch any –"

He cut himself off, staring in complete shock.

Sakura, hot and exhausted, ignored him, focusing on her metal cane clunking unevenly on the floor, slowly making her way up the hall.

Her first day back at school, she had relied on Ino to haul her everywhere, her hand gripping her arm, using her as a crutch.

She'd do better with crutches, Sakura reflected, seeing as both of her legs had started to ache incessantly, instead of just one cane.

"Fuck off, Kiba." She muttered as she passed him, her progress slow and painful.

Ino spotted her and charged down the hall, nearly knocking Kiba over.

"Sakura!" She called, her face worried. Ino's concern and sympathy was the only kind Sakura could bear, "Let me help."

She put an arm around Sakura's back, expertly positioning her to take most of the ache off of her legs.

"Is it a bad day?" She whispered in Sakura's ear.

Sakura just nodded.

"You'll be OK, I'll help."

Ino was as good as her word, slowly and patiently helping Sakura to the classroom, ignoring her grinding her teeth in restrained fury and the humiliated flush on her face.

Yesterday, there'd been practically no pain. She'd been able to walk alone, act normal on her first day back, obviously disappointing those gossipers. Now, they'd have plenty to gossip about.

Kakashi looked up as Ino helped Sakura into the science room, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Sakura, pain draining her face of colour, holding onto Ino like a lifeline.

The class stared, erupting into whispers and titters.

Sakura shook Ino off angrily, limping to her seat unaided, ignoring the daggers slicing through her bones.

She sat there for twenty minutes, her desk in a patch of sunlight, hot and uncomfortable, face propped up by her fist, her eyes closed against the pain. She was sweating lightly, and not just from the heat.

She was concentrating so hard on bearing the pain that she missed Kakashi's words and looked up, eyes watering.

It wasn't sympathy in his eyes, it was pity. "Haruno," He said, shutting the book he'd been reading from about molecules, "Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

Sakura felt the stares of the class burn through her, the curious eyes and amused giggles grating on her nerves. Ino was aghast, knowing just how Sakura would feel about being put on the spot like this.

"_Fuck._" She groaned, putting her head on the boiling desk and gritting her teeth in frustration. One class. Just one class, that was all she'd been aiming for. Just one, to show everyone she wasn't crazy, that there was nothing worth gossiping about her.

She got up messily, grabbing her cane, wincing at its intense heat due to being left in the sun, stumbling against the neighbouring desks. The people she bumped into either complained or laughed. She lurched against Kiba's desk, fearing his sardonic words of complaint (always sure to make the class erupt into laughter), but he looked appalled.

"Just fuck off!" She turned to address the laughing class, tears of fury stinging her eyes. The class looked back at her, most of them looking confused.

She shoved her way out as best she could, ignoring Ino's calls and Kakashi's murmurs.

She burst through the door, slamming it behind her, collapsing against the lockers opposite the classroom, sobbing in frustration and shame.

She threw her cane down the hall in a surge of fury.

She looked up when she didn't hear the cane's impact against the ground. What the hell…?

The strange red-head had caught her cane one-handed, his expression unreadable as he gazed at her.

* * *

Yep, Sakura's got a cane. She didn't use it in the last chapter because she didn't need it that day.

Feel free to speculate.

If the class seemed unusually unsympathetic to a girl with a cane in obvious pain, remember that, 1). they're teenagers who don't really like Sakura and 2). this is Sakura's perspective, so it's her opinions and thoughts, and they might well be biased.

Since the two main character's contrast each other in more than one way, I thought it would be cool to sprinkle these differences throughout the chapters. This chapter has sunlight as the main difference, but Neji's behaviour towards them both is also contrasting.

Gaara and Sakura meet once again.

Gaara would have been hit in the face by that cane had he not been really good at catching things. Yes, the mental image of a distraught Sakura flinging her cane into Gaara's face amused me.

Hinata has an almost-conversation with Naruto.

Sasuke and Naruto display their adorable rival-friendship. No, Naruto's parents aren't dead in this AU.

Sorry for the long gap in between this chapter and the last :S So many fanfics…

Please suggest names for Hinata's grandma, I know someone suggested Hana but that's Kiba's sister's name, isn't it? Means flower, as far as I know… very cute name :)

**Quick poll take for fun: **What's your favourite Naruto pairing? (I have probably asked this before)

A) Naruhina

B) Sasusaku

C) Gaasaku

D) Other! Let me know!


	4. I think I used to have a voice

Quotes:

Anger - Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. – _Buddha_.

Anxiety - The only thing that could spoil a day was people. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself. ~_Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

The redhead looked at the cane and then back at her, obviously musing over her angry abandonment. His face was delicately handsome, his nose smaller than average, his cheekbones high and pronounced. His jawline softened the overall harsh effect his black eye tattoos may have had upon his face. His skin was pure white and fragile-looking. Overall, he looked like a cross between a sickly invalid whose skin had never been touched by the sun, and a gangster, bizarrely enough. This observation was certainly aided by the swirling tattoos Sakura spotted inching their way down both of his arms.

He extended the cane her way, pale eyes staring into her own as though he was attempting to find meaning there.

Sakura turned away abruptly, swiping at her face to get rid of the angry tears, sniffing hard.

The boy simply walked around her, his face suddenly appearing before her eyes, extremely close to her own.

She jerked backwards, the dull throbbing ache in her legs searing from the sudden movement. She clutched the lockers again, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, wishing more than anything that Ino was here.

"Are you in pain?" The strange boy asked, "Do you not need this?"

Sakura opened her eyes, noting that the boy was once again offering her the cane. She gritted her teeth, swallowing her pride, and seized the cane without a thank you, repositioning herself and feeling some of the ache melt away as the cane took her weight.

"Haruno Sakura," The boy said seriously, watching her wince, "The girl with anger issues."

"Yes, that is my full name." She said scathingly, "But you can call me Sakura."

"Fine." He replied, seemingly missing her sarcasm, "You may call me Gaara."

"Gaara." Sakura said flatly, disbelieving, "Thank you for your generosity."

Gaara nodded his head as though they really were having a pleasantly polite conversation, and Sakura wasn't looking at him like he was crazy.

"Stop calling me the girl with anger issues." Sakura said bluntly, now that sarcasm didn't seem like an effective method of communicating her displeasure.

"Is that not what you are?" Gaara tilted his head like a bird watching a particularly interesting insect, his expression curious.

"It's not all I am." She said simply.

He nodded again, his fingers tapping a rhythm along his thigh in a seeming unconscious movement, "Good. So you admit you have problems."

"Listen here –" Sakura started to snap, her anger flaring at Gaara's mockery, but he snapped his fingers abruptly, shaking his head.

"No," He said, apparently unaware that cutting someone off mid-speech by clicking your fingers was considered rude, "If I angered you, I apologise. But there is no point trying to verbalise it."

"What?" Sakura screwed up her face, confused.

Gaara gave her a blank look, "You feel as though there is a 'storm of emotions swirling inside you. That your anger is fed by every indignity you suffer, every snide comment and every bad thing that happens to you, until one day you explode.' When you get angry, it is good to talk about it, yes, but first you should figure out if it is really worth being angry about. Snapping or exploding leads to mess."

Silence.

What the fuck was that all supposed to mean? She thought to herself, rolling her eyes.

"Well, thanks for the advice." She said, flashing him a quick, false grin, gripping the cane, "I better go, before you critique some other clearly obvious aspect of my personality."

She set off down the corridor, intent on finding a bathroom to wash her face in.

"There is one thing." Gaara called down the hall, "Your limp is inconsistent."

Sakura stopped, shifting so her elbow rested on top of the cane. She turned her head, a painfully bitter smile on her face, "Huh." She said, sounding mildly surprised.

He looked at her; pale eyes tracing the not-quite-smile on her face, watching her swallow a scowl back like a pill.

"Doc says it's psychosomatic," She smiled, "Pain's all messed up. I have good and bad days. Medication doesn't help when the pain's in your head. It's worse than the real pain. The real pain goes away," She laughed, a mirthless, bitter sound, "Can't even fucking limp right."

Gaara just stared at her, unblinking.

It helped that he didn't look like he pitied her. It was the pity that made her come undone, made her realise just how pathetic she had become.

"It's nothing." She said quietly, almost speaking to herself.

"Your grades are slipping." Gaara said, "Iruka told me to tutor you."

Sakura blinked at the randomness of the statement and then laugh, "I don't care if they're slipping. Let them slip, let them fall for all I care. I'm not being tutored by anyone."

"You _are_ difficult." He stated, "I said he told me to tutor you. He wasn't asking."

Sakura pointed her cane at him, smirking, "Have to catch me first. Gotta warn you, I'm pretty fast."

The classroom door creaked open and Ino peered out.

Upon seeing Sakura, she rushed to her friend's side and immediately began fussing over her, "I'm so glad you're still here! Kakashi-sensei wouldn't let me leave for ages, I had to argue with him, are you OK? I was so worried about you! I'm sure the class wasn't laughing at you, a lot of people asked if you were OK after you left."

"So many words." Gaara observed, his cloudy eyes looking vague and distant.

Ino finally noticed the tattooed male standing near them, looking out of place and slightly lost. She gave him a filthy look. He returned her glance with a mildly puzzled expression.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ino asked, irritated, "Are you stalking Sakura?"

"He's my tutor." Sakura laughed, shrugging in defeat when Gaara looked inquiringly at her.

"Tutor?" Ino made a face, "You're the smartest girl I know!"

"Iruka-sensei thinks my grades are slipping." Sakura said, clearly amused, "It's like he thinks I care."

Ino looked unsettled, "You used to care, Sakura. When we were kids –"

"Yeah, well, we aren't kids anymore, are we?" Sakura snapped, immediately regretting it when Ino's face fell, "I'm sorry. I just… I don't care about school, I don't care about my grades. I've only been back two days, anyway, how could my grades have slipped in that time?" She turned to Gaara, confused.

His eyes flickered with some fleeting emotion, his fingers still tapping the same rhythm on his leg, "Only back two days?"

"I joined the circus," She said, deadpan, "Came back after I fell off the tightrope. Onto a flaming hoop. Got gnawed on by a lion. Occupational hazard. Anyway, I've only just come back to school, so why the hell is Iruka-sensei already on my case, assigning me a tutor?"

"Maybe he wanted to keep your grades from slipping," Gaara appeared to be raising his eyebrows but it was impossible to tell, given that he didn't _have any._

Sakura thought about it. Iruka was her form teacher and thus her Mother Hen. He fussed and clucked about everything she did. He was the guy who diligently wrote reports on all of his students' progress and sent letters to parents if their kids had consistently poor attendance. It sounded like him to have pounced on a smart kid to ensure her grades improved the moment she came back.

"Well, it's nice that he cares, I guess." Ino said hesitantly, looking wary. She always looked cautious around Sakura these days, as though she was a ticking time bomb.

Sakura shrugged carelessly, feeling oddly grateful that now, instead of just turning up for school wondering if the pain was going to bad or not that day, she had something to focus on, tutoring sessions to schedule and work around. People build their lives on monotonous events, like thinking how next Tuesday you were going to pick out the colour for your kitchen tiles and how you had to call your mother in an hour – without this, you just existed aimlessly, without any sense of purpose.

Sakura occasionally found herself sitting on her bedroom floor watching dust motes lazily drifting through the rays of sunlight coming through her window. Those days were always long and mind-numbingly boring. She could almost feel her brain cells crying out for stimulation, begging her to pick up a book, write a song, to just do_ something._

But doing anything was an effort these days. She felt like she was being dragged down somewhere. She didn't know where she was sinking or what was pulling her, but it was someplace dark and cold and she didn't want to be there.

So, tutoring. Maybe not a terrible idea.

"OK, so when are we going to be meeting up?" Sakura demanded suddenly, surprising Gaara into another quick almost eyebrow raise.

He seemed to take a long time to think about it, his pale eyes turning distant once more, staring off into nothing, "Every day after school."

"No." Sakura shook her head, "No way. I have a life to attend to, I can't have an extra hour of school." She was sure she could find a life to fill the extra hours if she tried really, really hard.

"After school on Tuesdays and Fridays, then?" Gaara suggested.

Ino was frowning, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip.

Sakura's phone buzzed angrily in her pocket. She retrieved it, rolling her eyes at the number that flashed up on the screen.

"Mummy Dearest." She said by way of greeting, turning away from Gaara and Ino.

"Sakura, how are you feeling? You didn't take any extra meds with you!" Her mother chided.

"Didn't need 'em," Sakura lied easily and cheerfully, "Pain-free and happy! Thinking about enrolling in Interpretive Dance."

"That's not funny."

"Yes it is. Are you implying you think I'm a bad dancer?" Sakura asked in mock-outrage. She heard a dry _huff_ sound like a laugh and assumed it was Gaara. If it was Ino, she'd have been worried that her friend was capable of producing such a gruff sound.

"Don't be facetious." Her mother said, exasperated. That was better. She sounded more like serious-business nurse-Mom, not oh-dear-you-forgot-your-meds-sob-worry-worry-worry-Mom.

"I'm a fantastic dancer, I'll have you know. My legs are fine, I'm fine, a little hungry but that's easily fixed. Can we have a big dinner?"

"Sweetheart, you remember you've got an appointment with Tezuka-san today." Her mother pointed out, "At half four. If you wait at the hospital, I'll give you a lift when I'm finished."

"Oooooh, Crazy Lady. Awesome. I wonder if I can make her cry again… Why are you at the hospital? It's your day off."

"Well, we have an unpaid intern, Neji. You've met him, I had to decide what he can be trusted in doing. I think I've narrowed it down to anything that doesn't involve the patients or medication in anyway."

"So, coffee?"

"Yep."

"I bet he's thrilled."

"Oh, he was. Enough to tell me he 'isn't here to wait on idiotic nurses who can't tell their arses from their elbows.'" Her mother said wryly.

Sakura frowned, a warning tingle of annoyance crackling in the air around her, like a physical presence. "Oh did he? Maybe I should have words…"

"Don't. I get the impression he's used to disappointment. He was acting like he'd expected something like this, not being allowed to do anything he wanted to. Poor kid looked crushed. What did he expect, really? People pay a lot of money to be treated in this hospital, I can't just allow their lives to be in the hands of a novice with absolutely no field experience."

Her mother often described hospital life like a battlefield, making Sakura picture every intern in military fatigues, covered in dust and blood, her mother shoving a gun at them and pushing them through the hospital entrance shouting, "GO, GO, GO!"

If that was what it was really like to work there, she might be less reluctant about becoming a nurse. Her mother hadn't exactly recommended the career, but back when Sakura was twelve and enthusing about medicine, she couldn't stop the approving smile from forming on her face. Of course, Sakura would rather chop off her legs than become a nurse _now._

"Right, I'm hanging up," Sakura announced brusquely, smiling slightly at the huffing sound of annoyance her mother made, "See you on the battlefield."

"I've told you not to call it that, it's a _hospi_ –"

Sakura hung up, cutting her mother off mid-lecture, and turned around to face Gaara and Ino.

They appeared to both be engaged in some odd form of staring combat, Ino glaring unashamedly right in Gaara's face, and he returning the stare with absolutely no expression.

"Tutor," Sakura said grandly, "I'm going to have to skip today's session."

Gaara turned to stare at her, his look saying _you have got to be kidding me._

xxxxxxxx

Hinata sat in the canteen again, eyes on the basketball court outside. She could see several figures jumping about and messing around with a ball, but none of them had Naruto's signature hair or frenetic energy.

She sighed a little and pulled her coat around her, feeling cold despite being inside. The sunlight looked watery, like it was being filtered or strained by something in the sky. Hinata pictured a giant metal sieve lodged in the clouds, the sun's light pouring through it, and smiled to herself.

The noise of the canteen wasn't so intrusive now, the sounds of the students' conversations more like a soft burbling rather than a dull roar.

Hinata stood up slowly, feeling extra conscious of the stares her movement drew. She crossed the canteen quickly, steps a little uneven, her body trembling slightly.

The dinner ladies stood behind the food counter, ladling soup in bowls and handing out plates.

She could smell the pizza, the fresh scent of tomato and cheese. Her father never allowed anything he deemed 'junk food' in the house and, unfortunately, he included pizza in this category, meaning Hinata had only ever had a few heavenly forbidden mouthfuls in her life. They had all tasted fantastic to her.

One of the dinner ladies saw her coming and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to order what she wanted. The woman was about thirty and looked tired, bags under her eyes and her skin a chalky shade of white.

"…" Hinata opened her mouth. Her throat seized up in anxiety as the woman stared at her. To cover her growing embarrassment, she started to fiddle with her purse, digging out money.

"I'll have the ramen please!" Naruto's voice exploded next to Hinata's ear, startling a gasp out of her. She turned, clasping her chest above her wildly beating heart.

Naruto loomed over her, sweaty and beaming, his grin blindingly white and wide.

"Oh, Hinata-chan! What're you having? I'm having ramen!" He babbled, still grinning that beautiful grin at her, unaware that she was actually going slightly faint at the sight of it close up.

She wordlessly pointed at the pizza, hoping the dinner lady didn't take offense at her bluntness and impertinence –

The woman seemed unoffended, picking up a slice of pizza and pointing at the chips, "Want some of these on the side?" She asked.

Hinata nodded, knowing that it was extremely unladylike to drool at the prospect of food and yet finding it hard all the same…

"Of course she will!" Naruto said incredulously, "What is pizza without the delicacy that is the chip?" His voice was dramatic and amusingly over-the-top, "Of course, it doesn't compare to ramen, but I can forgive you for that, Hinata-chan!"

He winked at her and her knees actually _went weak._

She retrieved a few coins from her purse and handed them to the woman, dry-mouthed, hoping it was enough, despite the prices displayed next to the food in question, terrified she'd be humiliated when the woman loudly announced she had given the wrong –

But the woman simply nodded and handed over the plate of pizza and chips without a word, even giving her some change in return.

Hinata took the plate, euphoria soaring, her smile becoming a little less shy, and a bit happier. She did it! Without a word, sure, but she did it!

Naruto was chatting away as he collected his ramen, "So, Hinata-chan, come sit with me and Sasuke-bastard – unless you've got friends waiting, no? – OK, so sit with us and I'll let you have some ramen if you like, it's the best kind, miso!"

Hinata nodded away, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt as Naruto casually slung his arm around her neck and pulled her to the table that Sasuke was already sitting at.

She sat next down gingerly, putting the plate down on the table and picking up her knife and fork after politely nodding at Sasuke, who gave a slight head jerk that may or may not have been a tiny nod in return.

"Hinata-chan…" Naruto said gravely, gazing at her as he sat down in the seat next to hers.

Her heart sank, what had she done wrong already?

"You can't eat pizza with a knife and fork!" He cried out, gesturing at her plate, "That's unnatural! You pick it up and eat it like this," He demonstrated, pretending to hold up pizza to his mouth, taking a bite out of thin air.

Hinata slowly put her knife and fork down, picking the slice of pizza up carefully under Naruto's encouraging grin. She bit into it delicately, wiping her mouth and smiling at the taste. It was much better than she'd remembered it.

"That's it!" Naruto said happily.

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

Hinata took another bite and smiled at Naruto unguardedly, forgetting her embarrassment completely. He looked surprised, and then his eyes crinkled up into another genuine smile. He had a mouthful of ramen and was dribbling sauce, and yet Hinata couldn't withhold her giggle, she wasn't disgusted as she should have been, she thought he looked adorable, like a little kid.

"Now try my ramen!" He insisted, pushing the steaming cup her way.

Sasuke shook his head, smirking in amusement, "Don't worry, he makes all his new friends try ramen," He said to Hinata, ignoring Naruto's clear irritation, "My advice is to spit it out straightaway. It's lethal."

Hinata turned alarmed eyes on the cup of noodles, which looked innocuous enough, but hadn't her father mentioned all of the chemicals they put in instant food?

"Don't listen to him," Naruto huffed, "He doesn't know anything about good food."

Sasuke gave his salad a look, spearing a tomato with his fork and munching on it thoughtfully, "No, it's still good." He shrugged.

Hinata struggled with the chopsticks, but managed to get a few grey-looking noodles hooked on them, pulling them up carefully towards her mouth.

Naruto watched eagerly as she ate the ramen, almost bursting with excitement.

Oh, ew. No, there was no getting around it, it was horrible.

"What do you think?" Naruto was practically bouncing on his seat, staring straight at her.

She couldn't lie…

She swallowed, pushing the cup away. Sasuke looked knowing.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, "Tastes good." She managed to say quietly, her face flushing red at the sound of her own voice.

Naruto beamed proudly, "I know! I know! Hey, me and Sasuke-bastard always go to Ichiraku for ramen on Sundays after practice, wanna come with us? You can have as much ramen as you want there!"

Hinata was stunned. He barely knew her, and was inviting her out to eat with him? Should she say no? She wanted to say yes so badly… She knew what her father, what Neji would say if either of them knew what she was contemplating doing.

Sasuke was looking at her silently, waiting for her response. He didn't look like he resented her presence at all, but perhaps he could hide his feelings well?

"Y-yes, yes please…" Hinata stammered out, her face now hot.

Naruto put his arm around her again, "Awesome! You sure your cousin won't mind?"

Neji…

Hinata gave Naruto a pained smile, shaking her head.

"Your cousin?" Sasuke asked, eyes narrowing.

"Some guy named Neji, he was just being a bit protective of Hinata-chan," Naruto yawned, "No need! I'm a stand-up guy, right Sasuke?"

"Oh, yeah, sure you are." Sasuke said sarcastically.

"Oi! I so _am_ a nice guy!"

"Sure."

"I am!"

Hinata finished her pizza, listening to Sasuke and Naruto bicker good-naturedly about anything and everything, feeling Naruto's arm around her shoulders the whole time.

xxxxxxxx

Hanabi sat up straight on the settee, her hands in her lap, her legs uncrossed, in perfect form. Hinata tried to copy her stance to the best of her ability, feeling a little awkward in the faux-graceful pose.

Neji sat on the other settee, watching his uncle through narrowed, wary eyes.

Hiashi stood before them, having called a meeting with them all ten minutes earlier.

"The company thinks it best if we focus on improving the workers' morale." Hiashi said suddenly, "Because of this, we have decided to hold a ball for the workers. As my children, I expect you to attend, and begin your first steps in the world of socialising."

He was very big on socialising, he was very good at mingling in parties and keeping people happy.

Hinata froze in her seat. A ball. She would be required to dance in front of hundreds of strangers, to speak with these strangers and to above all, _not embarrass her father_.

She pictured herself trying to talk to some stern-faced businessman, and seeing her father's disappointed, angry face.

She couldn't do it.

Standing in some long, floor-length gown, makeup smeared all over her face, trying to keep up her obviously fake smile, trying to speak, to make her father proud…

Hanabi coughed quietly, glancing at Neji.

"Will Neji-nii-san be attending the ball with us as a group?" She questioned her father, raising an eyebrow.

Hiashi hesitated, looking at his nephew. Neji looked away, his jaw clenched angrily.

"…Yes," Hiashi said slowly. Neji stared at him, shocked, "As my nephew, it would only be proper to attend."

Hinata smiled gratefully, at least one good thing would come of this nightmare, this would be a time that Neji would not be left out, not be treated like an unwanted burden. Neji looked as though he was fighting a smile.

Hanabi huffed, but flicked her hair back and said eagerly, "Do we get new dresses?"

She managed to provoke a dry chuckle from her father, "I suppose you ought to, considering the occasion… Neji, you do not have a suit, do you?"

Neji swallowed, "No, Hiashi-sama, I do not."

"Well, you are almost a man now. I will take you with me when I go to get a new suit fitted, I assume you will be willing to wear one, correct?"

Neji nodded, looking speechless.

Hiashi had invited him to a workers' ball and offered to buy him a suit, all in one conversation. Hinata had never once imagined her father would do such a thing, not with his pride holding him back.

But, this ball… She felt the tears threatening at the mere thought of it. What could she do?

She didn't feel comfortable talking at all, not unless she was with her grandmother, or Naruto…

Perhaps that was it. Surely she could invite someone to come, her father would be pleased she was making connections at all, despite whom she was connecting with.

She would invite Naruto to the ball, and he would help her through it.

* * *

Heeeeeeeellooooo again.

More hints about Sakura and she and Gaara talk properly for the first time! If you ask me about Sakura's limp, I can't really say anything about it except her legs do hurt sometimes but other times her mind tricks her into believing they hurt when they don't. This Sakura is funny to write, but also annoying at times.

Hinata eats ramen and pizza! Naruto invites her out for food! A ball will be thrown!

Exciting stuff XD

Ah, this is the bit of the story where you have to build everything steadily and you just wanna plough in there with the major plot points…

The song from the chapter title is by Nine Inch Nails - Every Day Is Exactly The Same :)

The full quote is:

'I think I used to have a voice

Now I never make a sound

I just do what I've been told

I really don't want them to come around

Oh, no.'

It's kind of perfect for Hinata and her fears.

Sakura gets a tutor, but doesn't really seem to care…

As someone who has social anxiety disorder (I may as well admit it, it's probably obvious even over the internet XD), I can tell you, the idea of a ball is mine and Hinata's worst nightmare. Ever. Having one good friend makes all the difference, though :) Hinata wants Naruto to be that friend!

Good night! I so need sleep now, my darlings!

It's like one in the morning, why am I writing this, I NEED SLEEP XD

**Quick poll for fun: **Do you have any kind of mental condition or disorder that affects your life?

If you do, darlings, I'm happy to chat about it :)


	5. I have no need for anger

**Quotes:**

Anxiety - Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it, poor creatures that we are! ~_Charles Dickens_

Anger - If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow. –_Chinese Proverb._

* * *

Perhaps the best thing about the school was the library. For Hinata, with its tall bookcases, dark corners and secret alcoves for bookworms to sit in, it was the perfect place to hide from the world.

Hinata sat in a tiny alcove built into the wall. She'd brought a cushion with her from home, well prepared as always, and nestled into it, a large book in her hands. It was one of her favourites, the kind of book you loved enough to read over and over without getting bored. It was a book of fairy tales, with beautifully painted illustrations and thrilling narration.

Hinata smiled as her finger traced the fairy queen's painted face. She looked a little bit like Hinata's own mother; she thought to herself happily, it was the kindness in the eyes.

"Hinata-chan!" Naruto's voice rang out from the manga section, his grinning face appearing moments later, peeking around a bookcase.

"I knew it was you!" He said triumphantly, "No one else breathes like that!"

Hinata dropped the book in surprise, wincing when it landed on her foot.

How did she breathe? Too loudly, weirdly? What was wrong with it?

"Oh, sorry!" He jumped at the sound of the book slamming onto her foot, rushing over, "Didn't mean to scare you. You breathe with little snuffly sounds, it's cute!"

Hinata's face instantly turned redder than hellfire. C-cute…

"Lemme see your foot." He said, pulling her shoe off carefully, holding her ankle. Hinata caught her breath – her cute, snuffly breath! – as he examined her foot.

"I have no idea if this is OK or not." Naruto said, pouting, turning her foot around at all angles, "Wanna go see the nurse?"

Hinata shook her head, the light touch of his fingers on her bare ankle enough to silence her for decades, even a simple 'no,' was beyond her now.

"Well, I was thinking, you know how you don't talk much?" Naruto chatted, grinning, "I had a great idea! We can talk with these!"

He rifled through his bag after absently dropping her foot, pulling out a collection of post-it notes and two pens.

"Look, I'll write something, then you reply with yours!" He seemed genuinely enthused with his idea.

Hinata took the little sticky papers with a puzzled look.

Naruto started to scribble something on his, tongue sticking out as he concentrated.

He held up the note with a dazzling grin.

_Hey Hinata-chan!_

Hinata felt her eyes well up at his kindness. Naruto barely knew her and he was making attempts to communicate with her better, not judging her for her inabilities, only trying to help her overcome them.

She wrote her reply carefully, her writing cursive and delicate.

_Hello, Naruto-kun. Thank you._

Naruto read it, his grin brightening.

_No need 2 thank me! R u just shy or what?_

Hinata swallowed, hesitantly putting pen to paper.

_I think there might be something wrong with me._

Naruto's grin disappeared.

_Like wot?_

She took a deep breath. Be brave, she reminded herself, and honest. It's important to be honest.

_I get very anxious about social things. I find talking hard. I don't know why, but I want to get better._

Naruto scrunched up his face in confusion.

_Get better? U rn't sick r u? Y do u think talking's hard? It's easy! Just open ur mouth and talk :)_

_Well, I think it's more than just shyness. I open my mouth to say things but it's like I don't have a voice, I stutter and nothing comes out. It can be quite embarrassing._

_Huh, Hinata-chan! U've got a voice, dn't worry, it's in there somewhere! :) Practice talking! Right now!_

She looked up after reading his last message to find him making faces at her.

She burst into helpless giggles.

"See!" He looked proud, "Can't laugh without a voice, can you? Now, say 'hello.'"

She glanced at him, her smile fading. This kind of test, this pressure… this was the worst. Her father did this. She knew Naruto only wanted to help, but her cheeks were growing red already and her throat was beginning to tighten…

"He…" She bit her bottom lip, hard, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, "He…"

"Hey, don't worry if you can't, Hinata-chan!" Naruto said, sounding concerned, but Hinata heard the note of confusion, of scepticism, in his voice. She got this reaction a lot. People would stare at her incredulously, asking her what was so hard about speaking, it was one of the most natural things in life and how had she even reached sixteen without learning to speak? Baby.

_Why was I cursed with such a useless daughter?_

Useless.

Hinata opened her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes. Naruto looked taken aback.

She wrote quickly, her hand shaking.

_Please come to a ball my father is hosting. I will find it too hard on my own. I understand we hardly know each other, but I would appreciate this._

Please… please… she thought, I can't do this alone, look at how pathetic I am, unable to even say hello in casual situations? A whole ball on my own? I couldn't…

But Naruto was shaking his head, "A ball? With dancing and suits and stuff? Well, I don't really know you at all, Hinata-chan, and it's a bit sudden… I'm really sorry…"

Hinata nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks, thrusting the little notes back at him with a deep bow, "I'm – I'm sorry!" She managed to choke out.

She walked off quickly, wiping her eyes.

Naruto stared after her, looking confused. He bent down slowly and picked up the book of fairy tales she had dropped.

xxxxxxxx

She wasn't an eavesdropper. Politeness, courtesy, manners – these attributes were hardwired into her DNA. She hated the idea of listening in on someone else's conversation.

But right now, she really had no choice but to listen.

She stood in the girl's cloakroom, her hand idly toying with her coat on its peg, wondering when it would be polite to leave.

The moment she had gone in to get her coat, Naruto and Sasuke had appeared from nowhere, for once in their school uniforms, and had started talking about her. She didn't want to cause them any embarrassment by leaving and making it obvious she had heard their conversation. She decided to wait until they left.

"… But don't you think there's something wrong with that girl?" Sasuke drawled, leaning against the wall opposite Naruto.

Naruto's voice was uncertain, "Wrong? Like how?"

"She's more than shy. She can't even speak. You sure you know what you're doing, dobe, hanging out with a girl you don't understand?"

"Don't understand!" Naruto huffed, "What's there to understand? She's a nice girl, and yeah she's a bit _shy_ but –"

"You have the sensitivity and subtlety of a sledgehammer," Sasuke said bluntly, "You'll say something wrong and you know it."

"I won't!" Naruto sounded very indignant, "I don't get your problem. Maybe she's got a few problems with speaking and stuff, but got around that problem, look!" There was a rustling of fabric and paper as Naruto shoved something as Sasuke, "I bought post-it notes and pens especially so I could talk to Hinata-chan without her face going red."

"'Please come to a ball my father is hosting. I will find it too hard on my own. I understand we hardly know each other, but I would appreciate this.'" Sasuke read aloud slowly. Hinata squeaked almost inaudibly with embarrassment, "So, what did you say?"

"Well… I said no." It sounded like Naruto was shuffling on the spot.

Sasuke sighed, "_Idiot._"

"What could I say! She's pretty creepy, sort of, and I felt bad but –"

Hinata felt her breathing quicken. He thought she was creepy. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop them hearing her sobs.

A girl suddenly lurched out of the shadows of the opposite wall, stumbling into the wall of the cloakroom. She cursed loudly, swearing a blue streak. Hinata heard Sasuke and Naruto fall silent and frantically hoped they wouldn't dare come inside the girl's cloakroom.

They would.

"You alright?" Naruto called out, entering the girl's cloakroom without a fraction of shame, Sasuke following close behind.

The girl had a cane, which she waved at Naruto and Sasuke, "I'm dandy, mate, now get the fuck out."

Naruto looked startled, but just then Hinata's breathing hitched as Sasuke's eyes fell over her, quite by accident in the dark, and she saw his eyes widen in recognition.

"Shit." He breathed out.

"Hm?" Naruto turned to see what Sasuke was staring at.

Hinata, hand over mouth, tears trickling down her face, took a step backwards, embarrassed, and felt her foot get caught in someone's coat. She fell backwards, right onto the floor. She lay there for a second, shocked, the floor cool beneath her cheek.

"Hinata-chan! Are you OK?"

"Oi, you alright?" The girl asked, bending down to look at Hinata, offering her the cane.

Hinata took the cane and the girl, pink-haired and surprisingly small and feminine for someone with such a severe case of potty mouth, pulled her up.

She was shaking. Naruto was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and concern, Sasuke was stepping towards her, the girl cocking her head and saying something…

Hinata felt weak. Humiliated. She ran, sprinting past Sasuke even as his hands grabbed for her, ignoring Naruto's cry of, "Wait, Hinata-chan!"

She was such a fool, she thought to herself scathingly, thinking a popular, cheerful boy like Naruto would actually like her. How could you like someone who couldn't even speak? What good was she?

Her breathing was coming much too fast, and now she'd noticed it, it got worse, her heart speeding up. She stopped running and leant against a wall, panting, clutching her chest, her heart thumping an irregular, fast beat.

She couldn't breathe…

She was making wheezing noises now, and sank to the floor, still managing to feel embarrassed that there were students walking around and she was there in plain sight, crying hysterically and wheezing loudly.

Her hand, shaking badly, managed to reach into her pocket, pulling out her phone.

She dialled the number slowly, barely having the energy to push the buttons, and held the phone up to her ear, sobbing breathlessly.

"Hyuuga Hiroko speaking, who is it?" Her grandmother answered abruptly.

Hinata couldn't speak, knowing her grandmother could hear her panicked wheezes and cries.

"…Hinata?" She asked, sounding worried, "Is that you, sweetheart? Can you breathe?"

"N-No!" Hinata cried out, her body trembling beyond her control, "Please… please help…"

"Listen to me. You need to calm down. I know it's hard, but try to slow your breathing. Focus. In… and out… in… and out… that's it. OK, can you tell me where you are?"

"S-school…" Hinata tried to say more, but her throat ached so much and her breath was coming in and out in shallow gasps.

"I can't drive whilst talking on the phone, blasted modern laws, so I'm going to have to hang up, sweetheart."

Hinata couldn't stop the panicked whimper from escaping.

"You will be fine, I promise you. It's a panic attack, sweetheart, nasty things, but never fatal. I know it must feel like you're having a heart attack, but you'll be just fine, so breathe slowly and deeply, alright? Stay where you are. I'll come and find you quickly. Goodbye."

The phone cut off and Hinata let it fall from her nerveless fingers.

"_Hinata-chan!"_ Naruto shouted, running down the hall, throwing himself down next to her, his big blue eyes worried, "What's wrong?"

The girl from before limped over with Sasuke trying to help. She shook him off and hobbled over to Hinata.

The girl slowly knelt down, letting out a low, pained hiss, her face drawing level with Hinata's. She was quite pretty, pale skin with candyfloss pink hair, her eyes large and green.

"Where does it hurt?" She asked, her tone curiously professional, "Can you breathe OK?"

Hinata shook her head, pressing her lips together, shaking violently.

"OK," The girl said calmly, "I'm Haruno Sakura. What's your name?"

"She doesn't speak –" Naruto butted in, looking anxious.

"H-Hi-Hinata." She gasped out, tears flowing freely.

"It's OK, Hinata. I'm here. I'll help you out a bit. Hold my hand, that's right, now breathe in with me now... and again… you're doing fine… Oi, stop crowding her… back off, moron… OK, Hinata, is there anything you're afraid of at the moment? Something making you anxious?"

Hinata couldn't stop her eyes drifting to Naruto's face.

Sakura's lips pursed, "Right, idiot, back up there. It's OK, you're breathing better already. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"Don't make her talk," Naruto said, seeming determined to help in some way, "She doesn't like talking."

Sakura didn't look surprised, just nodded. She even brushed some of Hinata's hair out of her face with her fingers, the kindness of the action spurring even more tears.

Sasuke was watching, frowning deeply. He kicked Naruto's shin lightly, mouthing 'moron' when Naruto angrily turned round to retaliate. Hinata watched as his whole face turned red, including his ears.

He sat on the floor, ignoring Sakura's glare, "Hinata-chan," He said pleadingly, "I didn't want to upset you. I was just speaking without thinking, I always do that, I'm an idiot, I know. I don't really think you're creepy, I think you're one of the nicest girls I've ever met. And, if you still want me there, I'll go to that ball thing with you if you want."

His face was so beautiful… His sky-blue eyes filled her vision as he leaned closer, his tanned hand wiping away her tears.

Hinata felt the shuddering subside slightly, and nodded with a watery smile.

"Excuse me, out of the way." Her grandmother rounded the corner, eyes scanning the corridor, Iruka at her side.

Her grandmother spotted her sitting on the floor, surrounded by strangers, in tears, and hurriedly dropped down as far as her rheumatism would allow.

"Hinata? Are you alright?" She asked, sounding very panicked, "I found this nice man to help me find you. That's it, excuse me there, dear." She said politely to Sakura, who backed away quickly to allow the old woman to take her place at Hinata's side.

"Should we call an ambulance?" Iruka asked, his eyes big and worried.

But her grandmother shook her head, "No, of course not. She's fine now."

Naruto grabbed Hinata's hand and helped her to her feet, her breathing slower now. He looked truly remorseful as he clasped her hand, "I'm so sorry, Hinata-chan!" He said sincerely.

She managed a smile, taking her grandmother's hand.

She turned her head as they walked away, meeting Sakura's eye, "Thank you." She mouthed. Sakura waved her hand casually, mouthing, "Nah, it's alright."

xxxxxxxx

After the poor, still-shaking girl walked off with the old woman who'd come out of nowhere, Sakura whirled around to unleash some well-deserved venom on the two morons who'd obviously pushed Hinata into a panic attack.

"OK, so what the hell did you do?" She demanded, glaring at the tanned, dumb-looking blonde.

He blinked in surprise, "I didn't upset her on purpose! Hinata-chan –"

"Uh, whatever," Sakura took a glance at her watch and groaned, "I'm late. See ya later, bonehead."

"Wait, you can't just accuse me of something and then not give me a chance to explain –" The blonde protested.

"Watch me!" Sakura sang out, hobbling away from them as fast as she could.

After she'd limped off, Naruto stared at Sasuke, silently asking him what the hell just happened.

Sasuke just sighed, "Subtlety of a sledgehammer. See the trouble you caused? Don't hang out with that girl unless you can keep that idiot mouth of yours shut."

Naruto glared at him.

xxxxxxxx

Sakura sat on the uncomfortably hard plastic chair, keeping her eyes forward, ignoring the doctors and nurses rushing around her, spouting long, complicated medical jargon that most people wouldn't understand.

"So, Sarutobi-san has suffered a myocardial infarction," A doctor babbled, a nurse at his heels, as they practically sprinted across the hall, "It doesn't seem like there's much –" They rounded the corner and their words became inaudible.

Sakura leant back. _Myocardial infarction,_ she thought smugly, heart attack, in layman's terms. Why can't they just speak normally? Oh yeah, because the patients would be able to understand how bad their situation was.

She pictured the nurses giving it to the patients straight, "Yes, hello, how are you today? Not well I'm afraid! Bad case of death coming up in about a week! Hope you took out life insurance!" All delivered in that infuriating, perky tone her mother sometimes slipped into.

A man with silvery hair in a ponytail paced outside a door, holding a phone up to his ear, dressed in a very nice suit.

"Yes, it doesn't look like he'll last the night." The man said, sounding bored, "No. No. The nurse said there was nothing else. Well, if he signed it over to you now, that would be handy. No, I was joking, Orochimaru-sama, he can't actually hold a pen, he's unconscious. Want me to kick him for you?"

Sakura's head jerked up, not at the man's oddly flippant tone when talking about a dying man, but at the name he had mentioned: _Orochimaru-sama._

Holy shit.

Here?

She listened intently until the man hung up his phone and pushed herself off the chair, grabbing for her cane, ignoring the sharp pain that seared in her legs. Her legs had been aching incessantly ever since she'd stupidly knelt down next to Hinata and stayed down for a while, even as her legs felt like they were on fire.

"Excuse me!" She called out when the man turned to leave. He looked at her with a small note of surprise written in his features.

"Can I help you?" He smiled, eyes flickering down her cane and back to her face.

"Do you actually know Orochimaru-sama?" She demanded, panting slightly as the pain increased.

He looked slightly wary, "…Yes. I work for him."

"Wow!" She laughed, "That's amazing! I've heard all about how much work Orochimaru-sama's done for the medical field, he's so unappreciated!"

The man gave her a measuring look, like he was considering her for something, "You are a fan, then?" He asked, pushing his glasses up.

"Well, obviously, yeah." Sakura gushed, "He developed the technique to keep hearts beating even after death! What was it called, um…"

"Edo tensei," He said slowly, smirking, "How clever of you to know of that… most people attribute that finding to Tobirama Senju…"

"Heh, he might have thought of it first, but Orochimaru-sama really developed it and made it possible!" Sakura said eagerly.

"Are you interested in medicine?" The man asked, his tone more than politely interested. He seemed to genuinely care.

"Well, not practicing it," Sakura said sourly, "I've seen how nurses and doctors can be. No way. I am interested in the science behind it all, though."

The man slipped his phone back into his pocket, slipping into a deep bow, "I am Yakushi Kabuto. And who might you be?"

"Haruno Sakura, sir," She said, dropping into her own, shallow bow, hissing in pain, "Good to meet you."

He seemed to be contemplating something, tapping his mouth with his fingers, looking deep in thought. Finally, he broke out of his thoughtful stupor and pulled a card out of his pocket.

"If you really are interested in medicine, Orochimaru-sama is recruiting for young medical students to learn his methods and skills." He offered her the card.

It was black, with red letters saying 'Orochimaru corp.,' followed by three separate methods of reaching the man himself, including fax, email and phone.

Sakura took the card with an excited grin, "This is so cool, thanks! I've studied Orochimaru-sama's technique since I was thirteen."

"And how old are you now...?

"Sixteen." She turned the card over, missing his quiet sigh, "But my mum's a nurse, so I have some experience."

"Your mother?" Kabuto said pleasantly, "And I assume she works here?"

Sakura simply nodded, clutching her cane.

"How, may I ask, did you come to have to rely upon that?" Kabuto tilted his head, pointing at her cane.

Sakura narrowed her eyes, her expression souring, "I'm fine. It won't stop me working."

Kabuto laughed, "Good. Give me call soon, I'll sort something out for you. In the meantime, here's a little something Orochimaru developed, a painkiller superior to every other brand out there."

He handed her a tiny, unmarked bottle.

She examined it, eyebrow raised, "Ingredients?"

Kabuto's laugh was more stilted now, "Well… that's not my department. I wouldn't know."

"So you don't know the side effects? I have my own medicine, I can't afford to mess with my intake right now. But thanks anyway." She said, handing the bottle back.

The light flashed on Kabuto's glasses, hiding his eyes for a split second, "Shame…" He said slowly, "It would have done wonders for the pain."

"It doesn't hurt, the cane's just… just for balance." Sakura insisted, scowling.

Kabuto's silvery brows rose and he lightly tapped her shin with his foot. She clamped her jaw shut to avoid groaning in pain.

"Funny," He said, still smiling, "Doesn't seem painless to me," He winked, "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"Doctor in what, magic tricks?" Sakura spat, clutching her shin, "Your bedside manner sucks."

"True," Kabuto shrugged, "But I don't get paid to make people feel better."

Sakura frowned at him in confusion, rubbing her shin. Hopefully, she'd get to meet Orochimaru and he'd be a lot nicer than this bastard.

"Out of curiosity," Kabuto said, stepping forward slightly, "Where did you find out about Orochimaru-sama?"

Sakura gazed steadily at him, "I have a network of information-gathering monkeys planted all over the country."

Kabuto supressed a laugh, smirking, "I suppose I asked for that, hm? No chance of getting the real answer?"

"A friend told me." She said tersely.

Kabuto patted her on the head, ignoring her growl, "I look forward to working with you, Sakura-chan. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, Orochimaru-sama considers his workers his family."

"Sakura." Her mother's voice was sharp. Sakura turned, feeling illogically guilty. Her mother had changed out of her uniform already, and was dressed in her day clothes. She looked exhausted.

Kabuto stepped forward, saying smoothly, "You must be Sakura-chan's mother, good to meet –"

"Who are you?" Her mother asked coldly.

Kabuto looked disconcerted for a fraction of a second, then straightened up, smiling, "My name is Yakushi Kabuto. I was just chatting with Sakura-chan here while I wait for news on a patient." He pointed at the door behind him.

Sakura's mother looked hunted, the expression she always had when asked about a patient who's chances were minuscule, "Oh. Hiruzen Sarutobi, right?"

Kabuto nodded.

"I'm very sorry," She said sincerely, "Sakura, come on. You can't be late for another appointment."

As she left, she felt something being pressed into her hand. She turned back.

"Use it," Kabuto winked, "It'll help, I promise."

Sakura looked down at the bottle of medicine, then slowly slipped it into her bag before moving to join her mother.

Kabuto sat down after she left, hand in his pocket, holding his phone and waiting.

An hour later, a loud beeping and a moan came from Sarutobi's room.

Kabuto checked his watch, then smirked when the nurses came running.

"Right on time," He said, starting to dial Orochimaru's private number, "It's all beginning now."

* * *

Hinata's panic attack was quite horrible to write, simply because I've had a few and they genuinely suck, you really feel like you're dying. The worse thing is they can come on really quickly, meaning if you're in public you might not get the chance to get somewhere private when you get one. You can have one if you're really anxious, scared, upset or, the worst one… for no reason. A panic attack has many symptoms of a heart attack, which is why they're so scary.

This one was Hinata's first.

Naruto, from Hinata's perspective, is simply a perfect person, but he isn't really, of course. Even he is bit ignorant of things like anxiety disorders – I couldn't picture him as someone who would know anything about it, really.

Sakura and Hinata meet at last! You might have noticed that when the prose describes Naruto, he's a glowing, sunny demi god in Hinata's perspective, but he's just the dumb blonde in Sakura's XD

Sakura expresses a sudden admiration of Orochimaru! More on that to come.

Not much GaaSaku in this yet, hm? Plot keeps getting in the way. Oh well, the first tutoring session is soon! Methinks Sakura won't be the most patient of students… XD

I think this story's been my favourite to write, thus far. I don't know why, I think it might be the characters are fun to explore :)

**Quick poll for fun: **Um… Gotta think of a question… um… HEY LOOK, A MARTIAN!

A) Holy shizzit, a martian?

B) What, where?

C) I can't see anything!

D) I'm beginning to suspect… -

Yeah, thinking of questions is hard.

How about, **Quick poll because I can: **Neji or Gaara? Explain why you love the one you picked.

A) Neji

B) Gaara

C) Neither

D) Captain Fussybritches.


	6. You're giving me anxiety

Quotes:

Anger - If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging. – _Will Rogers._

Anxiety - Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday. _Author Unknown_

* * *

"Hello, Sakura-san." Tezuka smiled faintly at her, sitting on the same sofa – no, as it was Tezuka's it was a _settee,_ an expensive, fragile piece of furniture that made Sakura want to burn cigarettes into its fabric just to be contrary.

"Tezuka." Sakura nodded, crossing one leg over the other and shifting away so that Tezuka was no longer uncomfortably close.

"Have you had a good month so far?" The woman asked politely, blinking rapidly as was her wont.

Sakura bared her teeth in a quick grin, "Oh yes, super." She lied cheerfully. To be fair, the month had perked up considerably after her chance meeting with Kabuto. Sure, the dude was creepy as hell and she very much wanted to break his glasses in two, but she was now working for Orochimaru! It was beyond unreal.

"You know, no one can force you to see a psychiatrist." Tezuka said suddenly, her perceptive blue eyes fixed on Sakura's face.

"What?" Sakura was startled.

"Hm, no sarcastic remark or barbed comment." Tezuka noted with a wry grin, "I see you don't always use humour as a defence mechanism. At least not when faced with the truth."

And there it was. Sakura finally figured out why she disliked Tezuka so much. It was because she always got the feeling the woman was much smarter than Sakura was and knew so much more than she let on. Sakura had been acting superior this whole time, feeling like she didn't belong in the little room with the stupid posters and the smiling woman, but it seemed like Tezuka was fully aware of Sakura's reluctance to be there.

"Well, no, I have to come…" Sakura trailed off, incapable of thinking of a witty put-down in time, having to make do with nonsense.

No, she didn't want to be there, but she _had_ to attend these idiotic little meetings, once every two weeks, had to endure the politely probing questions, the interested glances and the way Tezuka never stopped scribbling on her clipboard.

"Do you want to get better?" Tezuka asked softly.

Get better? She was hardly insane – they'd established that little fact early on to reassure her mother, who had insisted on joining Sakura for the first meeting and had spent the whole time interrupting Tezuka mid-flow and correcting Sakura's answers.

"Get better at what?"

"You have some serious anger issues. Going by the few details I have been provided with, and the behaviour you have displayed in this room over the past couple of months, I also feel you may be depressed."

Oh please. Do not even go there. Depressed with a capital 'D,' that's the word her parents had flung around awkwardly for a while, it had lurked within the first, wary conversations post-shit-hitting-the-fan and it had starred as the main topic of every tear-filled dinnertime interrogation – her parents' tears, not hers.

"I'm not depressed; I'm a sunny, happy person." Sakura informed her, deadpan, "I'm honestly fine."

"The questionnaires you have filled out, your own background and your parents' reports would indicate otherwise."

"Look, Tezuka, I swear to you – I am totally fine. Maybe I've got a short temper, but there is really nothing seriously wrong with me."

"How would you know?"

"What?"

"How would you know if something was wrong? You have many symptoms of depression. For example, have you made any plans for the future?"

"…Not yet."

"Where do you see yourself in five years' time?"

"Here, probably, still having this stupid conversation."

"Sarcasm once again, hm? Listen, Sakura-san, after the year you've had, I can understand why you might feel –"

"Feel?" Sakura stared at her, affronted, her tone frosty, "You don't know how I _feel._ You don't understand me. And no, before you roll your oh-so-adult eyes at the stupid teenager throwing a tantrum because no one understands them, I actually mean, you don't have a clue. I've told you nothing. I've not said a word of the truth. So how would you know? Sure, you have your fancy files and the notes you've been taking without fail… You may even have a tearstained report from my parents about what a _good girl_ I used to be and how they can't _understand_ why I've morphed into this devil child, but all that stuff is good for is learning other people's opinions on me. The only way you would know how I felt was if you were actually inside my head. So, would you like a dose of the truth?"

Tezuka nodded, frowning.

"Cool. OK, here we go. I'm a selfish brat. I couldn't care less if my parents are hurt or upset by my behaviour. I don't plan for the future. I don't give a fuck about my grades. In general, I just don't care. As for the year I've just had, I'm totally fine. I don't have any problems that you can geek out over. I'm literally only here because my parents guilt-tripped me into coming because they are mistakenly under the belief that I have issues and require help of the mental variety. But there is nothing for you to learn from me. Nothing to scribble down. I'm a normal sixteen year old girl – hormones, tantrums and all."

"I think," Tezuka rubbed at her mouth with her pale, ringed fingers, "You are lying on all accounts. I think you are deeply depressed. I think you need counselling. But I know that I cannot help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I'm sorry you feel you have been pushed to attend these sessions. You know where the door is."

Sakura glanced at the door in question incredulously as Tezuka pointed at the exit, the psychologist's expression calmly resigned. As if she'd known this would happen. Hang on, known what would happen? Was she really being kicked out?

She stood up, looking at Tezuka with a quizzical grin. The grin slipped when it became apparent the woman was not joking.

"Tezuka, what's up?" She asked, forcing her tone into condescending coolness, not the childish whine of confusion that wanted to come out. It would do no good to lend Tezuka the power of being the adult in the room.

But there was no getting away from the fact that Tezuka was the real adult here. The woman sighed, placing her hands in her lap, "Do you feel big when you make others feel small?" She asked, eyes penetrating.

Sakura wondered if she was sweating. She felt like she might be, since she had just gone hot and cold in a matter of seconds. Her mouth was as dry as old parchment. She longed, briefly, for the sweet tang of her favourite alcoholic beverage.

"People assume bullies are born, not made. When you were younger, you were the smart child in class, weren't you? The good one. Your record shows you never put a foot wrong. You were thirteen when you started acting up. Your parents put it down to the beginning of teenage angst. I don't believe that. I think something happened when you were thirteen, something changed that made you, the smart, good little girl, emerge as the worst breed of bully – the intellectually superior bully, who believes themselves to be doing the world a favour by highlighting the weaknesses and flaws of others." Tezuka took a pen from her shirt pocket and paused in her speech to note down something, presumably detailing the stunned look on Sakura's face, "I know that deep down, buried beneath the layers of pretension, that smart, good little girl is still there. It's up to you if you want to talk to me, and see if we can get her out."

Sakura felt her hands ball into fists automatically. She bit her lip, hard, and turned around to cut off the infuriating view of Tezuka's calm face.

"I don't have to talk to you." She spat, feeling her anger seething inside her and not wanting to blow up – how much trouble do you get in for punching a psychologist?

"True," Tezuka said serenely, "You have a choice here. I do genuinely want to help you, Sakura. All you have to do is talk to me. Tell me the truth."

For the slightest moment, Sakura was tempted. The memory of that bed floated into her mind unbidden, and her defences dropped. But she forced the memory away and tugged the door open.

"I'm past helping." She said quietly.

"I thought you said you were fine?" Tezuka pressed her, sounding concerned.

"Maybe I'm a compulsive liar as well as depressed." Sakura said flatly. She tugged the door open and slammed it behind her.

xxxxxxxx

Her headphones were the big, chunky kind, shaped like ears. She pushed them up slightly as they slipped down, closing her eyes as _Moonlight Sonata_ gently floated through her mind.

She walked down the hall, hands in pockets, breathing quietly and feeling at peace as the piano played its soft melody.

Nothing like a bit of Beethoven to take the edge off the rage.

She'd phoned Gaara and told him she could make a session after all, and had arranged to meet him in the local library. She didn't inform him where she had gotten his number from. She felt it was more mysterious than saying, "Oh, I asked the school's secretary and she was stupid enough to tell me."

She was still furious Tezuka had kicked her out. Had they been dating, Sakura would have classed that as a fairly cold and impersonal break up.

Before she'd put the music on she'd been thinking _bitch _with every step. She wasn't sure who she was directing this particular flow of profanity to, Tezuka or herself, but it had been highly satisfying and she'd stomped _bitch_ all the way to the library. She'd realised quickly that she didn't exactly want to be angry for her meeting with Gaara, and had thus turned to the immortal genius that was Beethoven to soothe her anger.

Now, she pushed the library door open and kicked it shut behind her, pulling her headphones down to hang around her neck, piano music still tinkling quietly.

The library had a fairly old-fashioned exterior, at least 70s by Sakura's reckoning, but the interior had clearly been refurbished recently, so it was endless rows of computers, metal surfaces and the few bookshelves they had were tucked almost out of view.

She got stuck trying to walk through the tangle of wires peeking out from behind the computer desks, tripping slightly when her cane got caught. Finally, she wrenched it free and, red-faced, hobbled over to the large wooden desk at the back of the room.

She sat down with a sigh of relief, the ache in her legs dying down. She reached into her pocket and took out the medicine Kabuto had given her. She placed it upon the desk in front of her and crossed her arms, staring at it contemplatively. If Orochimaru himself had designed it, it must be pretty damn good, she thought, but what if it had side effects like projectile vomiting? Or death. Death would be bad.

She flicked the medicine bottle over, expressionless, and looked up as someone moved in her peripheral vision.

Gaara ambled over, hands in pockets, his expression thoughtful. He had his sleeves rolled up halfway, revealing the dark tattoos that decorated his pale arms. Sakura smoothly tucked the bottle away as he approached her table.

"How good are you at English?" He asked abruptly, completely omitting the usual greeting part of a conversation. Sakura, mouth already open to say 'hi,' found herself suddenly at a loss, something that rarely happened to her.

"Er, exceptionally so?" She raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly disconcerted. Tezuka's rant had put her out somewhat. She disliked people acting differently from how she had categorised them. For example, her mother was a **Reasonable Nurse Mother**, meaning she was logical, useful in a crisis, and suffered from undeniable maternal instincts, something that had plagued them both over the years. Her father was a **Busy Kind Father**, meaning he was never around, but when he was, he was always willing to talk. Although he had not been there for every scraped knee, he had winced and made sympathetic noises whenever he came home from a hard day at work and she had another gaping wound to thrust in his face, demanding sympathy. Tezuka was _supposed _to be a **Flustered Posh Psychologist, **not **Snarky Insightful Guilt-tripper.**

Gaara was simply a question mark.

He slid into the seat next to her, pulling some textbooks out of his bag. Sakura gave them a cursory glance and was a tad offended – they were below her level.

"Maths?" Gaara tapped a red textbook with numbers on the cover, looking at her inquisitively.

Sakura gave a modest shrug, "I'm fairly good, I suppose."

She thought of the certificates the school had grudgingly awarded her last year – one of which had been for outstanding work in numeracy…

Why am I bothering with this tutoring nonsense anyway? She wondered, amused at her own capriciousness. Perhaps it was simply something to stave off the monotony of everyday life. Oh yeah, because listening to some unemotional stranger waffle about stuff I knew years ago will really brighten my days!

"Science?" Gaara looked a little resigned, as though he knew what was coming.

There was no point being humble here.

"Outstanding," She smiled wryly, "It's my best subject."

Gaara paused, a science textbook in his hand. He swallowed, "Why do you need a tutor again?"

She shrugged, "Ask Iruka. His idea. I've always been of the opinion that schoolwork is for the weak-minded, but then again, I've never had to work at school."

"How dull that must be," Gaara observed practically, "To never have to work at anything takes the fun away from playing."

"You don't look like the kind of guy who 'plays.'" Sakura countered, her tone sour.

Gaara's eyebrows, or at least the flesh where eyebrows would normally reside, lifted a fraction in surprise.

"I do not look…" He paused, choosing his words carefully, "playful to you?"

"Well, you're kinda… er… serious-looking?"

She was half-joking, but Gaara appeared to be taking this very seriously indeed.

"I see," He said, visibly digesting what she had said, "I didn't know that."

"It's not a bad thing." Sakura hastily added, feeling a little bad for some reason, "Being serious is good sometimes, right?"

"But not all the time," Gaara said slowly, in a calm sort of way. Sakura realised he wasn't offended in the slightest. "I suppose I've never thought of myself as particularly serious. I see. What about your other subjects?"

"Uh, I guess I'm pretty bad at P.E." Sakura admitted, "Physical stuff just doesn't work for me."

Gaara examined his own, thin arm with a frown, "I don't believe I can help you in that area."

Sakura stifled a laugh.

She realised she was leaning towards him unconsciously, resting her elbow on the desk and smiling faintly. She moved back and wiped her face clean of the smile automatically.

"How about music?" Gaara suggested wearily, as though assuming it was pointless even to ask.

Honestly. It wasn't as if she was some kind of super-genius. She did suck at some things. Mostly at being a good daughter.

"No good." She sighed. Music was just one written exam at the end of the year after countless meaningless classes that she didn't care about.

To her surprise, he perked up. Well, he perked up as much as a gloomy-looking guy like he could, meaning his eyes brightened and he sat up in his chair.

"I can help you there." He said confidently.

"Oh?"

"Music is an important part of my life," He said casually, "It helped me through some tough times."

Huh. Well, Sakura liked all types of music, but she couldn't really think of anything that had gotten her through the dark days... Certain songs made her fly into a rage, others calmed her down, a select few made her cry – but on the whole, she had never really gotten the concept of music changing you as a person. To her, it was all consumer-driven crap sang by identical drones.

"Basics first," He said quietly, tapping his pen on the desk in a regular rhythm.

He pulled his chair closer to hers, opened up the music textbook in front of them and pointed to the page, his arm brushing against her shoulder. She shivered slightly at the sensation of the fabric touching her skin.

They were very close now. Sakura gave him a cautious glance. His attention was on the book in front of them. His eyes were half-closed, two black circles set in a pale face. The tattoo on his forehead looked like someone had dipped their finger in blood and traced the kanji for _love_ onto his skin. It was strangely disturbing to look at. Gaara leant forward in his chair, turning a page, and his knee brushed against Sakura's. She bit her lip and fixed her gaze on the page before her.

Gaara proved to be a soft-spoken, gentle instructor, whose teaching methods simply focused on pointing out facts and he clearly did not expect her to understand anything yet. To Sakura, this kind of gentle, academic handholding annoyed more than anything. She loved just grabbing a book and memorising its contents, she had a thirst for learning that could not be quenched with his quiet, emotionless lecturing.

"So, why haven't I seen you at school before?" Sakura asked abruptly, already tiring of learning phrases.

His eyes narrowed at the interruption, his soft voice cutting off mid-flow. He straightened up in his chair, "You obviously weren't looking hard enough."

"You are a new student, you come from Suna, your birthday is January 19th and your blood type is AB," Sakura said lazily, enjoying the look of consternation on his face, "I think I looked hard enough."

"How do you know my personal information?" He asked, looking decidedly less concerned than he ought to be. He looked as though she had just given him a gentle poke, not revealed private facts about him that she shouldn't know.

Sakura sighed. What a waste of time, she should never have bothered to trick the secretary into letting her look in the school files (with the lame excuse of needing to check if her phone number had been changed, which the silly woman ate up with a smile). She'd looked through other files as well, of course, but the strange red-haired boy who could catch a cane one-handed and drummed his fingers with nervous energy had caught her attention more than anyone else.

"The school secretary has been neglecting her brain pills lately," Sakura said carelessly, "Wasn't hard to get a look at your file."

"Why would you want to do that?" Gaara frowned, his fingers tapping against the desk irregularly.

"Maybe I find you interesting." Sakura flicked a glance at his face to gauge his reaction. His piercing eyes locked hers the moment she looked into them and for one breathless moment, they just stared at each other.

"I'm here to tutor you." Gaara said gruffly, breaking their gaze by turning his head sharply, "Nothing else."

"Do you hear that? That's the sound of my heart breaking." Sakura said, deadpan, her sarcasm covering how stung she felt. Rejection before she had even attempted anything. Not that she would have done anyway. Though Gaara, like Neji, had very pretty eyes. She was a sucker for pretty eyes.

"Why don't you tell me something about you so I know more about my unattainable tutor?" She suggested, one corner of her mouth lifting.

His fingers skipped a beat and he ceased his endless drumming to gaze at her, head tilted.

"Tell me what _Largo_ means in musical terms, and I will tell you something in turn."

"Slowly and broadly." Sakura shut the textbook without glancing at the pages, her smirk widening at the easy question.

Gaara's lips twitched. "I have a brother named Kankuro and a sister named Temari. _Rubato."_

"What kind of fact is that? That's boring! Tell me something juicy next time."

"If you cannot answer –"

"Literally 'robbed time', where rhythms are played freely for expressive effect." She let her fingers dance their own rhythm in a triumphant solo on the desk next to Gaara's motionless hand.

He watched her fingers dance and shook his head, "Juicy? My mother died giving birth to me, and my father was murdered recently."

Sakura's fingers halted.

"_Allargando_." Gaara added as an afterthought.

"Getting slower and broadening." Sakura said absently, still gazing at Gaara in a horrified kind of fascination, thinking _here is an orphan who can admit his misfortune without a flinch or flicker of emotion_, "That really sucks, Gaara… I'm sorry about your parents."

"It does not matter," He said inattentively, "My mother despised me and cursed me with her dying breath. I don't blame her. I too would curse my murderer. My father was distant, a stranger."

"You shouldn't –" She began to say before he snapped his fingers to cut her off.

"No. _Rallentando"_

"Gradually slowing down," Sakura answered impatiently, "You shouldn't call yourself a murderer. You didn't kill her."

"If I did not exist, she would not be dead. It is very simple." Gaara said candidly, "What is a foetus anyway? It is a parasite. It feeds off its host, the mother, and gives her nothing in return. I have never thought much of the sentimental idea of mothers. Perhaps this is simply self-preservation on my part. _Ritenuto_"

Sakura's eyebrows knitted together in an unsettled frown, "Immediately slower." She said, biting her lip, "That… that is a very sad, cynical idea of familial love. Or lack thereof, I guess."

"You are smart," Gaara said, "too smart to need a tutor. You memorised those musical terms within minutes. Perhaps a smart girl such as yourself can understand that humans are, at base level, simply animals, and it is just human nature to behave as such. Sentimental fools layer society with syrupy ideas and notions – that a mother is obligated to love her child purely because it is hers. I choose to believe she had the right to hate what was ending her life."

"Don't bullshit me with the smart card. You know how many idiots think I should believe what they say because I'm _smart?_ Humans are social creatures by instinct, and there are plenty of mothers in the animal kingdom who love their children and would do anything to protect them."

"Well, how odd," He said softly, fingers picking out a gentle rhythm once more, "the cynical, angry Haruno Sakura defending the saccharine notions of an idealistic world. Can this really be the same girl who told Inuzuka Kiba to die in a hole?"

Sakura stared at him, face hot with some unpleasant emotion, feeling oddly tricked for some reason. As though she'd spent time building her walls carefully, only to notice Gaara had slipped in through a gap. It bothered her to think there may be a hole in her defences.

"I was angry." Sakura muttered.

"You often are, aren't you?" Gaara said sagely, "Did you ever consider getting some assistance in that area?"

Tezuka's calm face swam in her mind.

"No." Sakura said resolutely, "I don't need help."

"Really." He said, clearly not convinced, "_Discord."_

"A chord where some notes seem to 'disagree' or clash giving an unsettled feel." Sakura replied uneasily, feeling as though those two pale eyes were seeing right through her.

Gaara drummed his fingers into a harsher rhythm, his face expressionless.

* * *

I got all of the musical terms from Bitesize. So I'm probably wrong XD

This is the highly anticipated first tutoring session between Gaara and Sakura. I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted, but I certainly enjoyed writing it :)

The first full Sakura chapter. Hinata's first full chapter is next!

Gaara's got some demons of his own to deal with.

I'm really sorry about the long delay between chapters, I've been struggling to write lately, not sure why :S

**Quick poll for fun:** Which Disney character do you relate to the most?

For example, I relate most to Belle because we are both eccentric bookworms :)

I'm on a huge Disney kick at the moment, currently obsessing over Cinderella – my God that ballgown is AMAZING! ~~


	7. I need some peace of mind

Quotes:

Anxiety - Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people. ~André Dubus  
Anger - How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it. – **Marcus Aurelius**.

* * *

"You look too pale." Hiashi frowned at Hinata, the lines around his eyes deepening as he grew more stressed, "Try to pinch some colour in your cheeks."

Hanabi gently pushed Hinata's clumsy hand away from her face and started to daub on blusher to brighten her skin. Hinata let her arms fall down to her sides uselessly, her stomach chewing itself to pieces with nerves.

The same worried thoughts kept running around her head in a circle… _what if I ruin everything?... what if Naruto-kun doesn't turn up? …. what if he does, but I bore him or do something stupid? …. what if I embarrass my father?_ These same thoughts buzzed repeatedly in her mind, impossible to ignore, until she felt like she was one mistake away from a nervous breakdown.

She was sat in the armchair downstairs, Hanabi leaning over her to do her makeup, sweating and wringing her hands in her lap hopelessly.

Very nice to meet you, she mouthed, her face a picture of silent anxiety, I'm pleased to meet you. It's so good to meet you. Hello, I'm Hinata. Hello.

It was only when Hanabi moved away to frown at her leg did she realise it was jerking up and down uncontrollably as nerves raced through her body.

_Sorry,_ Hinata expressed with a single, apologetic look, _I am just nervous._

Hanabi rolled her eyes affectionately, shrugging, _don't worry._

I'm scared, Hinata thought to herself, looking deeply into her sister's eyes, trying to convey the fear she felt with that one look, hoping and praying she would see and…

Hanabi tilted her head, her perfect, lip glossed mouth puckering in a frown. Hinata saw realisation dawn on her face a split second before she spoke.

"Father, I don't believe Hinata looks well at all." She announced, glancing over at their father, who was straightening his tie in the mirror.

Neji's eyes snapped up from the book he'd been reading. He stared at Hinata's sweaty, powdered face, her wringing hands.

"What?" Hiashi said irritably, "Well, what's wrong with her?"

"She looks as though she is feverish." Neji commented quietly.

Hinata felt a surge of gratitude for her sister and cousin.

"Feverish?" Hiashi moved towards the armchair to stare at his eldest daughter's face. She imagined she looked fairly pitiful, pale and sweating, close to tears.

He let out a half-bitten groan, glaring at her as though she was deliberately sabotaging the night with her illness.

"…Well, she'll just have to make do." He snapped, moving back to pace in front of the mirror once more, "This evening is important."

"Father, I really feel -" Hanabi began delicately.

"Would it not be prudent," Neji started to advise –

"No." Hiashi said thunderously, "She is attending this ball and _that is final."_

Hinata was certain, had she only the words to say it with, that she could have expressed her worry, her fears, everything, perfectly adequately. Having to sit back and watch as others argued on her behalf, others discussed what she was to do, others decided her fate… it was these times she truly wished speaking was as easy as opening her mouth.

"Go get dressed, you two." Hiashi pointed at the stairs, "I want you ready in twenty minutes."

Hanabi's face had gone slightly red in the effort of not blurting out exactly what she thought. Hinata imagined she would be grateful for Hinata's difficulty in speaking at that moment. She was mildly amused at the idea.

Hanabi managed to convey her irritation through her walk, her fists clenched at her sides; every step picked out with great care, yet stomped with fury. She was eloquent in every area, even teenage tantrums.

They reached the bedroom they shared, and Hanabi shut the door behind them quietly.

She then leapt on the bed, grabbing a pillow and shoving her face into it. Hinata watched, bewildered and slightly concerned, as Hanabi screamed noiselessly into the cushion.

She threw it aside and glared at nothing in particular, cheeks red with rage, hair messed up.

"That man," She pointed at the door, "is a total _bastard."_

Hinata blinked in surprise.

"You aren't ready for this sort of thing," Hanabi spat, "He's shoving you in at the deep end and, what's worse, he _knows it._ He's fully aware of how impossible this is going to be for you, he knows exactly how frightened you are going to be – oh… Oneesan." She broke off, looking at her sister's face.

Hinata was trying desperately not to cry, knowing Hanabi had just spent so long doing her make-up for her, so her face was contorted, her eyes filling with tears.

Hanabi got off the bed and walked over to her sister, holding her forearms gently. She smiled sweetly, brushing her hair off her shoulders.

"Come on, oneesan. I'll do your hair, and we'll put our dresses on together afterwards, OK?" Her voice was soothing.

Hinata closed her eyes, the bedroom light shining through her lids brightly, tears still clinging to her lashes.

She nodded in agreement.

xxxxxxxx

"I'm going to screw it up." Naruto said to his reflection, which nodded back to him.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, turning onto his side to glare at Naruto from the bed, "While I definitely agree with you screwing it up, you owe her. You can't just not show up."

"Why not?" Naruto pulled at his shirt collar, certain it was too tight, "People do it all the time. It's a normal thing. If I go, I'm going to embarrass myself or upset her again and… argh, I can't do it, OK? I suck at this stuff. The… the standing around and talking to people politely stuff. I suck."

"You are a complete imbecile." Sasuke informed him.

Naruto just nodded, not bothered by the insult at all, "I know, I know. That's why I shouldn't go."

"Just stay quiet," Sasuke got up from the bed and straightened the bowtie Naruto had left loosely dangling from his chest, "Don't insult or offend anyone. Use the social skills you were _supposed_ to learn as child. Yes, no, please, thank you? Any of that sound familiar to you? Common courtesies. Don't ask personal questions. Ever."

"Argh, this is gonna suck!" Naruto's hands came flying up to cover his face as he groaned, muttering, "Hinata-chan's nice and cute but I don't know her that well and if we get separated I'll have no one to talk to and what if I'm wearing the wrong clothes or something cause I didn't exactly get a dress code in the mail if you think about it I'm being emotionally blackmailed into coming here –"

"Dobe." Sasuke snapped. "Shut. Up."

"Oi, Naruto!" Kushina burst into the room, camera in hand, Minato beaming behind her from the doorway, "Lemme take some pictures of you two in your suits!"

"Mooooom…" Naruto groaned, a picture of teen angst as his mother swooped upon him, shoving the camera in his face, "It's not _prom_ or anything, it's just some ball thing."

Sasuke, who knew to be smarmily charming to his best friend's parents, merely smiled stiffly for a photo, allowing Kushina to pinch his cheek in delight.

"It's not just a ball," Kushina lightly hit Naruto on the head with her fist, prompting a dramatic "ow!" from her son, "It's being hosted by the Hyuugas. That's a big deal, isn't it?" She directed her last question to her husband, who nodded in response.

"There'll be a lot of important people there, for sure." Minato agreed.

"So, what if I mess up?" Naruto asked desperately, "What if I insult someone rich and famous or I break something?"

Minato took a step around his wife and put a calming hand on his son's shoulder, "Don't stress yourself out before anything's even happened. Just be calm. It's just another party. Sasuke's going with you, so you aren't going to be alone. The time to panic's after the worst has happened, not before, so just focus on getting ready and looking handsome for this Hinata girl."

"A Hyuuga," Kushina sniffed, "Should've known he'd have high standards with women. Gets it from his father."

"Aw, she's not… I'm not… we're just friends!" Naruto whined, his cheeks growing red.

Kushina put her hand on his other shoulder and her face drew level with his, her expression serious.

"Woo her, son," She said solemnly, "She must be richer than the Queen."

"I don't really like the implications of what you just said…" Minato laughed, his expression a tad uncomfortable.

"What? We're hardly pimping him out to the highest bidder, I'm just saying, she might be marriage material!"

"Well, we're not exactly strapped for cash as it is, no need to push him towards looking for a rich spouse. That, and he's only sixteen…"

"We aren't going to spoon-feed him all his life, he's going to need –"

"Stop talking," Naruto said, his face scrunched up, "I'm going to the party now and I don't need this crap making me more nervous than I already am."

Kushina immediately scolded him for swearing (however mild it might have been), and took several, proud photos of his embarrassed face and wrinkled suit.

Sasuke brushed his own suit down and briefly held a pose for a picture of him and Naruto, baring his teeth in his own, embarrassed version of a smile.

"Should I go, though?" Naruto suddenly questioned, turning back to the mirror. Sasuke groaned, "I look stupid. And Hinata-chan probably won't even be there."

Kushina cuffed him over the head again.

xxxxxxxx

The ride over had been quite surreal. Her dress had been too tight at the waist, and hurt as she bent over in the car, feeling sick rise in her throat.

Hanabi's hand had been firmly on her knee, a comforting constant in the jerky ride of flashing street lights and nausea.

Neji had sat on her left, his frown a touch more concerned than he presumably would have wanted to show.

It had rained, and the droplets had looked like diamonds on the car windows against the dark night sky.

Now, they stood outside the grand old building the ball was being held in, the brisk air doing nothing to soothe Hinata's stomach.

Hiashi strode forward to the entrance. Hanabi linked arms with Hinata and started to follow him, carefully holding her dress up to avoid puddles. Neji automatically fell a step behind them.

There were crowds of people outside the building, lining up patiently to wait, umbrellas dotted about here and there to shield the guests from the rain. Thin women with high, aristocratic cheekbones pulled shawls around themselves, shivering slightly. The men straightened ties and fiddled with their cufflinks.

Hiashi strode to the door, where two huge suited men stood, arms crossed. They lifted their (wholly unnecessary) sunglasses to peer at the Hyuuga guests and instantly stepped aside to allow them in when they recognised them.

Hinata clutched Hanabi's arm and stepped inside.

Parties usually had pounding music and roaring laughter, but the events her father hosted or attended were always the same.

Everything was dressed in dull colours, the tablecloths were eggshell, the filmy banners were beige, and there was a band of skilled musicians on a small stage made up of more suited men. Hinata's sharp ears caught the sound of violins playing and her fingers twitched for her own instrument. A lone woman sat in the middle of the band, plucking idly at a harp, looking very much as though she was there purely for decoration.

The music was soft and soothing to her ears and the conversational babble that surrounded them was full of polite noises and coughing, as opposed to the traditional party noise – shouting and screaming, as Hinata had feared.

Her feet moved to follow her father, her dress swishing about her ankles, Hanabi's hand in the crook of her arm a warm reminder of the support she had with her. Neji followed at her heels.

xxxxxxxx

Hanabi still hadn't let go of her arm, her little fingers gripping tightly as if to prevent her older sister being washed away by a high tide. Neji stood next to them, holding an empty glass of wine up to his lips, not taking his eyes off of his cousins.

Hiashi was talking to three men, all a little older than him, all listening intently to his lecture. Every now and then he glanced over at his children.

Hinata had nearly thrown up upon realising what the ball had truly been held for.

When a lady reaches an age in which her father considers her eligible to be introduced to the public, say, sixteen, he will take her to an event to display her looks and disposition to all who attend, as a sort of advertisement.

For marriage.

It was a coming-of-age ball. She'd only realised it when several men had approached her with the intent of asking her to dance, only to have Neji snap at them to leave, to her immense relief.

That meant the whole event was for _her._ The champagne towers, the white flowers on every table, even the band of musicians… it had all been arranged for a pleasant evening in which Hyuuga Hinata would be judged by the public and either approved… or found wanting.

Hinata stood at the back of the room with her sister and her cousin by her side, half-hidden by a white canopy and a large vase of flowers. Her eyes flicked around the room constantly, her hands clasping her dress tightly.

"It's fine," Hanabi said soothingly, "You don't have to dance with anyone."

Naruto hadn't come.

Though she'd feared he wouldn't, deep down, perhaps the part of her that admired his smile and his happy-go-lucky personality, had completely believed he wouldn't let her down.

She was alone.

The crowds bustled around, a few people casting the Hyuuga trio curious glances. Every casual look burned right through Hinata down to her core. What were they thinking? Was she wearing the wrong type of dress, was she sweating, could they read the insecurity and doubt on her face?

Her stomach was tying itself in knots and all she wanted to do was disappear, to sink through the floor and go home, anything to get out of this tight dress, this massive room full of people who were clearly judging her every move.

Hanabi suddenly slipped her hand into her purse and pulled out her phone. She leaned into her sister, whispering in her ear, "How are you doing?"

Hinata took the phone, understanding what she wanted since they had played this game many times before. Hinata had discovered she was very, very fast at typing, almost as fast as talking aloud.

'_I'm coping. I have invited a boy from our school to attend. Do you think Father will mind?'_ She typed the message, Hanabi's frown increasing with every word that appeared.

"Are you actually trying to get him to blow up?" Hanabi asked, seemingly scandalised.

Hinata shook her head, biting her lip until she taster copper. She certainly wasn't the type of teenage daughter she had seen in films and read about in books – the kind of girl who enjoyed upsetting her parents, pressing their buttons for the fun of it. She had seen her father's vulnerable side too much to exploit that. His only weakness was his grief, and she would never use that against him.

"Hinata-san," A cool, cultured voice rolled out from her left side. A quick, startled glance revealed that the man who spoke was around eighteen, had shoulder-length brown hair tied back and the traditional cloudy Hyuuga eyes, "Would you care to dance?" She could not recall his name, but he was definitely a distant relative.

Neji put a hand on her shoulder, just casually enough to look like a spontaneous gesture but also soothed her nerves. She gave him a shaky smile, seeing the skin around his forehead tightening into a heavy frown, his mouth a downwards curve of displeasure. Sometimes, his subservient nature made her ache for his lost sense of freedom.

Hinata inclined her head, subtly wiping her sweating palms onto her dress, taking a step forward and feeling her knees tremble.

"He- He- " She started, feeling the dreadful blockage in her throat, her legs trembling even more. Neji's hand tightened on her shoulder. _Hello,_ she thought desperately, and a picture of Naruto's smiling, encouraging face filled her mind.

The man's polite smile froze as she struggled visibly.

Her father's face… she caught a glimpse of it, the thunderous anger… she couldn't breathe again, it was happening here of all places, her chest tightening and her knees shaking to the point of almost giving way.

"My sister isn't feeling very well at all," Hanabi cut in, stepping in front of Hinata, "I'm afraid she is entirely incapable of any vigorous activity."

But her father's angry face was stuck in her mind, so she shook her head and stepped around her sister, offering her hand to the man, her face red. Her breathing had settled down but her stomach was still in bits. She didn't want to be an embarrassment, she couldn't let her father down on a night that clearly meant everything to him.

It was no one's fault but Hinata's that she was deficient as a daughter. Everyone knew she was incapable of speaking, of entertaining, hosting, making speeches, and that Hanabi, her younger sister, was more suitable as their father's heir. It tortured her to think that she let her father down every day by not being like her little sister.

The man smiled and took her hand. The band were playing a slow song, so as they walked to the space where countless couples were twirling around, Hinata frantically worried over having to dance while pressed against the stranger.

Her anxiety was almost worth it when she caught the approving nod her father gave her as she walked past, her dress swishing about her ankles. She half-turned her head and saw Hanabi's open look of concern and Neji's irritation.

The man's hand moved to her hip and the other clasped her sweaty hand without hesitation, as the music swelled to a crescendo, and he began to steer her around the floor.

"So, Hinata-san," He said conversationally, "I hear your father is thinking of expanding his business into other countries."

He – he wanted to talk about her father's business?

She simply nodded jerkily, feet moving unsteadily almost in time with the music. He moved with an almost bored air, his eyes fixed at some point beyond her shoulder.

They danced, the music picking up the pace. One of the lights blinded her as they spun around and she stumbled over the hem of her dress. The man tightened his grip on her waist and heaved an aggrieved sigh. That's when Hinata looked at her father and realisation hit her.

Her father was watching intently with the same men from before, his face betraying his annoyance at her slip up.

He hadn't – he hadn't sent this man to dance with her, had he? He hadn't forced him? The man must have come of his own accord, knowing the whole ball was being held for her…

Hinata bit down on her lip, closing her eyes, no longer caring about keeping up with the rhythm of the music. She was dancing with a man who had been sent by her father. It was little more than an arranged date, and just as belittling.

Hinata can't speak for herself. Hinata cannot defend herself. Hinata needs guidance, protection, to be followed around by her cousin to make sure she does not get in trouble. Hinata needs her father to hold a ball and to have suitors ordered to dance with her, because she doesn't have the charm, the charisma, the eloquence, to catch a man's eye. Hinata doesn't have a voice.

Hinata is useless.

Her stomach felt like it was tearing itself apart and her knees had begun to shake once more, to her horror. If she slipped now or stepped on his foot, surely she would –

"Um, excuse me?"

The man halted in his swaying movements, Hinata's face hitting his chest as she failed to stop moving quickly enough, shocked by the voice she had recognised.

Naruto was in a dark suit that was slightly too big for him, the sleeves extending slightly over his wrists, the jacket far too baggy to look fashionable. His bowtie was bright orange with teal stripes. In his hand he held a bouquet of drooping red roses. Beneath her shock, Hinata found herself wondering if he knew what red roses meant when given as a gift to a lady.

Sasuke stood behind him, looking dapper in his own tailored, expensive suit. His posture was relaxed, he managed to look completely at home in a ballroom filled with the richest people in the country and yet detached from the situation, uninterested in his surroundings. Hinata envied him that ability to simply not care what anyone thought of him.

Naruto looked bashful in his suit, pulling at his bowtie – why was he wearing a bowtie with that kind of jacket? – and smiling, "Can I have this dance?" He asked brightly, holding out his hand.

Hanabi appeared at Hinata's elbow as though summoned, Neji at her heels as always. She smiled at Naruto, "I will take those on behalf of my sister. What a lovely bouquet!" She exclaimed, charming as ever. Only her sister could hear the amusement in her voice.

Naruto beamed at the compliment and handed them over.

Hanabi immediately gave them to Neji, who blinked at her in mild confusion.

"Kenji-san!" Hanabi smiled at the man who Hinata had danced with, "Would you give me the honour of this dance?"

"This is most irregular." He complained, but allowed himself to be tugged away by the younger girl, who gave Hinata a tiny, subtle wink as she left.

Neji sighed, raising his eyes to the heavens, holding the bouquet with an expression of utmost distaste, "Your sister is a law unto herself," He declared, scowling at Naruto for no discernible reason.

Hinata felt her knees grow steadier and took Naruto's hand cautiously. Her father was watching with teeth-grinding fury as his daughter spurned the suitor he had picked for an unknown teen in a baggy suit and a poorly chosen bowtie.

"Hi, Hinata-chan," Naruto whispered as he wrapped an arm around her waist, clearly having no idea what he was doing. He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she intercepted it, holding it with her own. He gave her a grateful smile, "Sorry I'm late."

Hinata shook her head, smiling coyly.

"You look beautiful." He said absently, but with obvious sincerity. After a moment in which they gazed at each other, frozen in shyness and not knowing what to do next, Naruto placed his chin on her shoulder and began to inelegantly steer her around. She let out a shaky, relieved laugh, feeling comfortable for the first time that night, and copied his awkward movements.

Sasuke gave Neji a sideways glance and smirked, "Want to dance?"

Neji blanched, gripping the flowers tighter and turning away.

* * *

Come now Neji, don't play hard to get.

ARGH, writing this chapter was so insanely hard for some reason. I've no idea why, but I have been sapped of all inspiration and will to write as of late. I hope this chapter isn't too terrible.

I'm so very unwell right now, my _everything_ hurts.

Would anyone mind suggesting a song for Hinata and Naruto's first ever dance? It can be classical, it can be modern, anything you think suits them :)

Btw, my darlings, I think this song suits Hinata very well:

_You've got the words to change a nation but you're biting your tongue_

_You've spent a lifetime stuck in silence afraid you'll say something wrong_

_If no one ever hears it, how we gonna learn your song?_

_So come on come on, come on come on_

Yes, I watched the Olympic closing ceremony, Emeli Sande is indeed awesome! :D

I think feeling like a disappointment, a burden, can be very damaging to a person's self-esteem. Hinata considers herself inferior to her sister, is ashamed of being higher in station to her much more capable cousin and feels as though she can never live up to her father's expectations. In canon, Hinata would often give up on training (before Naruto's influence changed her), and so I think here, she has already given up on trying at being the heir because she thinks it better to not to try only and yet fail, but to never try at all to shield herself from that failure.

I would have loved to have Naruto sweep in on a white horse wearing an expensive suit and dance a fox trot over to Hinata, challenge Kenji to a dance off, win, punch him in the solar plexus and begin to flawlessly waltz with Hinata.

Buuuuut… That's not Naruto XD

I figured this way, with his bright bowtie (that he chose himself!), wearing his dad's suit, he would be more endearing and like himself.

Split POV chapter next, I reckon, if I've planned it right. I probably haven't.

**Quick poll for fun: **Is there any book/film/anything that everyone else seems to love but you hate? Explain your reasoning why you don't like it, please :) If you also have something you love that everyone else hates, tell me about it, please!

No suggestions for you, Glen Coco.

(for example, I really don't like twilight, but it is insanely popular. Sigh)


	8. I'm sorry, I'm shaking with fright

Quotes:

Anxiety - You know those days when you've got the mean reds... the blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long. You're sad, that's all. But the mean reds are horrible. You're afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don't know what it is. ~ Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's, 1958, spoken by the character Holly Golightly

Anger - Anger is one letter short of danger. – Eleanor Roosevelt

* * *

_You were my strength when I was weak _

_You were my voice when I couldn't speak _

Hinata felt light and airless in Naruto's arms, her dress spilling around the polished floor as they whirled around the dance floor.

The spotlights filled the room with hazy, glowing balls, like starlight streaking the night's sky.

Naruto tipped his head back a little to meet her eyes. They enjoyed a shared giggle, a conspiratorial grin, before his arms tightened around her and his smile melted into something a touch more serious.

_You were my eyes when I couldn't see _

_You saw the best there was in me _

The band had left the stage and now music was being piped through the room's speakers. Celine Dion sang out as the guests finally started to dance with real enthusiasm, not just out of a sense of obligation.

_Lifted me up when I couldn't reach _

_You gave me faith 'coz you believed _

Hinata giggled even harder when she saw her cousin being dragged around the dance floor by Naruto's friend, Sasuke.

Neji was clearly trying to keep the flowers from being squashed and was powerless to prevent Sasuke from forcibly spinning him around, smirking all the while.

Naruto turned his head to see what had amused her, and laughed so hard his breath came out in helpless wheezes.

_I'm everything I am _

_Because you loved me_

Naruto held her hands and they stopped dancing, both of them laughing loudly, Hinata not caring that it was rude or unseemly, just savouring how fun it was to laugh out loud without a care, trying to memorise the feel of Naruto's hands in hers.

"Sorry, I'm not good at dancing," Naruto apologised, still giggling a bit. Hinata relished the bright, childish sound.

She flapped her hands awkwardly, smiling, trying to indicate she wasn't either.

His grin widened, he understood.

"I think you're doing great," He beamed at her, "There's loads of people here and you were dancing with some guy – who was that by the way? – I bet you've had to talk a lot."

Hinata swallowed and nodded.

"I know how hard it is for you. I didn't understand before but Sasuke gave me some leaflets – well he threw them at me – and I know it's all sucky and you must feel bad right now but, hey, guess what Hinata-chan!" Naruto's excitement was infectious. She leaned forward, smiling gently, as he spoke.

"I'm gonna help you out!" Naruto declared brightly, jabbing a thumb at his chest, entangling it in the bowtie accidentally, "I'm gonna hang out with you all the time until you can talk as much as me! That's a promise!"

Hinata stared at him, startled.

"You're a nice girl, Hinata-chan, and it's not fair that you miss out on stuff," Naruto said earnestly, "Who talks more than me? No one! So there's no one better to teach you than me. And it means we get to hang out all the time!"

All the time?

Her legs wobbled, then she steadied them, determined to get through this night without falling over or fainting. Even if Naruto was beaming right in her face, beautiful and _right there_, an embellished, embossed invitation. _All the time._

She looked up at him, the spotlights dancing across her vision, leaving sparks in her eyes.

"OK." She said roughly, voice hoarse.

Naruto looked stunned. He recovered admirably fast, grin reappearing in a flash, "Hey, it's working already!"

Sasuke and Neji wobbled past them, Neji trying his best to wriggle free, Sasuke unconcernedly moving through the steps flawlessly, one arm around Neji's waist, the other gripping his hand.

"Sasuke!" Naruto waved eagerly. The other boy nodded at him, smirking, "Careful! Looks like he might bite!"

Neji snarled.

Hinata gave Naruto an anxious look, nodding hard.

Naruto grinned and then did a double-take, "What, do you think he will bite?"

She nodded even harder.

"Aw crap." Naruto rubbed his head. Then he rounded on Hinata, still beaming, "Looks like I got the better Hyuuga cousin, eh?"

Hinata flushed darkly, stuttering hopelessly, "Um – um –"

Naruto threw his head back and laughed dramatically, "Ha ha! Sorry, Hinata-chan, you just looked so cute!"

Hinata felt faint.

"Oh look, they've got noodles!" Naruto pointed at the buffet and gleefully tugged her over.

Naruto… all the time… she thought, dazed. She might need someone to hold her up afterwards, but the idea of being with Naruto frequently, to have him smile at her, encourage her…

She could do it. She could speak if it was with him.

xxxxxxxx

She could see stars through the rain-streaked car windows. Huge black buildings loomed at the edges of the road, but between every one, the moon lurked, following them as they made their way.

The moon was full and glowing white, hanging in the dark sky in sharp contrast with the bleakness of the night. But perhaps the night only seemed bleak because it was Hinata who viewed it.

She sat in the back of the car, hands clenched around each other in her lap, knuckles white. Her head was bowed, a bitter twist to her mouth.

Hanabi sat next to her, unable to offer any comfort with their father watching their every move through the little mirror.

He'd insisted on driving his own car back to the house, dismissing the poor driver there and then at the party.

Hinata rubbed a thumb across the skin between her fingers, a repetitive, anxious motion. She felt her legs tremble and was unable to force them into stillness.

The night had been beautiful. The people around her had seemed friendly now, smiles all around, drinks flowing, music pumping a soft beat through the room that had even the grumpiest guest dancing. Even poor Neji had danced, however forced it had been.

And then –

"Hinata, why did you stop dancing with the Kenji boy?" Her father had suddenly stepped out of the crowd, all glares and accusations. The happiness in the room had been punctured, the fear returning swiftly to gnaw at her once more, the smiles of the guests melting into judging sneers, high, drunken laughter hurting her ears, the music a thumping, angry sound.

She had taken a step back, releasing Naruto's hands as though scalded.

"Well?" He demanded, his eyes burning with cold fury.

"Father!" Hanabi called out, releasing Kenji to come and put out the latest fire her father had set, "I'm afraid I was monopolising –"

"I've had enough of your clever tongue," Hiashi said, jabbing his finger at her without looking, closing his eyes against the anger that was surely building in his chest, "I asked your sister a question."

Hinata had looked around for help instinctively then, desperate, and Neji must have heard her silent plea as loud as thunder, for he shoved Sasuke away and stormed over to his cousin's side.

Naruto was staring at Hiashi, suddenly looking unaccountably nervous. He rubbed his hand on his trousers, swallowing, and offered it to Hiashi.

"Um, hello, you must be Hinata-chan's father –"

"And who," Hiashi gave him the barest of examinations before returning his glare to his eldest child's burning red face, "are you?"

"Naruto, um, I'm –"

"Hinata," Hiashi said dangerously, "I sent you to my mother to sort out this silly disobedience. I expected you to actually try for once instead of letting your sister and cousin take care of it for you. It will come to the point one day when Neji will wipe your chin when you eat and Hanabi will speak for you entirely. You are the _heir_ to my company. Do you understand what a responsibility that is? It is not uncommon for such things to be passed down to nephews or younger daughters. However, I was not willing to compromise, not on such an important matter. Where do you expect to be when you grow older? Still messing around at balls with strangers, Hanabi and Neji holding your hand and helping you through every obstacle that comes your way?"

Hinata was trembling from head to toe now. She had never felt so humiliated in her life. Naruto was staring and staring and the guests were all watching and Neji and Hanabi looked so _sympathetic_ and… and…

"Fath – " Hinata gasped out, her hands shaking so badly she had to hide them behind her back, "F- F-"

"Why did you stop dancing with Kenji?" Hiashi glared mercilessly at her, stepping forward until all she could see was his angry face, the eternal disappointment still there, the frustration that _this_ was his daughter, this… mess.

She couldn't even cry. Her throat squeezed shut as though invisible hands were clamped around it.

"My apologies, Hyuuga-san," Naruto said solemnly, sweeping in front of her and giving her father a shamelessly deep bow, "I am afraid I took the liberty of insisting that poor Hinata-san here dance with me and didn't take no for an answer, even when she politely declined."

Hiashi's lip curled.

Neji and Hanabi gave Naruto contemplative looks. Sasuke took a casual step forward, eyes on Hiashi.

"Is that true, Kenji?" Hiashi turned on the younger Hyuuga.

The young man shook his head, "Not at all, Hiashi-sama. He barged in for a dance, of course, but Hinata-sama did not refuse him once."

"Not verbally," Naruto allowed, "But she has trouble –"

"Trouble." Hiashi repeated flatly, "You believe it causes _her_ trouble? Her bone idleness?"

"Hey, she's not lazy," Naruto said angrily.

"Naruto." Sasuke muttered, his voice a low warning.

"Hinata-chan finds social stuff difficult and making her do stuff won't help her at all, and blaming her is just stupid –"

"Excuse me?" Hiashi stared at him, icily incredulous.

"W-well, not stupid, but…"

"You come here and insult me to my face –"

"No."

They all, even Kenji, stared at her in shock.

Hinata trembled violently, sweating, but soldiered on, the blockage in her throat lessening ever since Naruto had stuck up for her.

"It's… n-not Naruto-kun's…. fault…" Hinata said, achingly slowly, her father's eyebrow raising slightly with every painful word.

"I- I – " She stammered out, tears finally falling. Neji looked away. Her throat was raw, her voice a breathless whisper, "It's my f-fault."

She burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the ball, so horribly embarrassed and devastated that her happiness had been so quickly and expertly shattered that she just couldn't stop herself.

Her father had then grabbed her wrist and, against a protesting Naruto's will, forced his immediate family to leave the ball, leaving a miserable-looking Naruto behind, surrounded by hostile Hyuugas.

Hinata sat in the car afterwards, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth to stop the sobs from sounding out into the silent car, unable to prevent the tears from spilling out as she replayed the night's events on an endless loop, the awful start, the beautiful, hopeful dance, and the shuddering halt.

Neji and Hanabi sat, pale and silent as ghosts, a look of righteous fury on Neji's face, bitter helplessness on Hanabi's. Tonight had marked the first occasion in which they had failed to spare Hinata her father's full wrath.

Hiashi drove, his jaw clenched shut, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

The moon followed their lonely, quiet journey all the way to home.

xxxxxxxx

"Is this technically legal?" Sakura asked, raising her eyebrows at Neji.

He didn't spare her a glance, focusing on the road, "Of course it is. I have a license to prove it, in the glove compartment."

She picked up her coffee from the cup holder near the gearstick and took a sip, melting back into her seat, "I believe you, thousands wouldn't." She smiled in a way she knew would be infuriating if he would actually look at her.

"I am seventeen and fully authorised to drive you to the hospital," He gritted out, hands tightening on the steering wheel, "Though I should just make you walk."

"In this weather?" Sakura affected a pathetic, little girl voice, giving his hands an appreciative look. Rain splashed on the windscreen, the wipers making the miserable sight outside just visible. Grey clouds as far as the eye could see and soaked civilians hurrying up and down the streets.

"Why do you even have to go to the hospital?" Neji slowed the car to a halt, the engine thrumming loudly, his tone betraying his annoyance.

"Top secret," Sakura said casually, "And having you as my mother's ward is unexpectedly handy, considering you come with a car." He was in a very bad mood today, she could tell.

The stoplight winked red through the rivulets of rainwater streaming down the window. She took another sip of coffee, savouring it with a little hum of happiness. A real, concrete reason to live, coffee. She would get out of bed in the morning just for coffee. Hell, she'd take it to bed in the first place.

Her phone vibrated in her bag, drawing Neji's curious, pale eyes. She retrieved it swiftly, ignoring his scrutiny.

_**Red Panda **__is calling._

She gave a tiny chuckle and answered.

"Hey sexy," She said, purely because she knew it would provoke a reaction from him. Neji stiffened in his seat and turned his cold glare on her, "Oh, sorry, not you Neji."

Neji's glare became a few degrees colder.

"May I ask if you always answer the phone is such a manner?" Gaara asked dryly, sounding amused.

Oh. So Neji was the prude, Gaara was just impossible to rile.

"Only for you," She purred, trying not to laugh at Neji's darkening expression, "What do you need?"

"We never set up a time for our next meeting."

"This couldn't wait till Monday?" Sakura frowned.

"Not if you wanted to meet before then."

"Ooh, alright eager beaver," Sakura laughed, pointedly ignoring Neji's staring, "When's good for you?"

"Eager…" Gaara made a noise, half frustrated, half amused, "I don't know if you are sincerely a very strange person or good at pretending to be one. Where are you now?"

"In a car with a strange man." Sakura drew a frowning face in the condensation on the mirror, to match Neji's.

"I am not strange," Neji protested, "I don't –"

"How strange?" Gaara asked.

"In an adorable kind of way." Sakura smiled at Neji, enjoying the way he blushed.

Gaara gave a quiet, contained laugh, "So you don't require saving?"

The light changed and Neji pushed the car forward so quickly Sakura nearly spilt her coffee down her front. Glaring at Neji in a way that promised swift retribution, she said, "Not yet. I'll let you know if the situation changes. Wanna say hi, Neji?"

If looks could kill, she would have died and been resurrected for Neji to kill her all over again with those icy, death-glaring eyes a thousand times.

"He says hi," Sakura informed Gaara, "He's really very shy so he won't say it himself."

"He's lucky to have such an outspoken friend to assist him." Gaara said, and she could _hear_ the amusement in his voice now.

"Gaara says he thinks you're lucky to have such an amazingly attractive and witty friend to assist you." Sakura told Neji, watching the trees and buildings zoom past as the car rumbled down the road.

"Gaara?" Neji frowned, turning his head slightly, "From Sunagakure?"

Sakura felt a twinge of unease at the look on Neji's face.

"Hey Gaara," She said, not taking her eyes off of Neji, "Are you from Suna?"

Silence. She couldn't even hear him breathing.

"Gaara?" She repeated.

Neji was sat bolt upright in his chair, hands on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them, but his attention completely on Sakura's now one-sided conversation with Gaara-who-may-or-may-not-be-from-Suna.

"Who told you that?" Gaara replied carefully, his voice sounding measured, "Who is in the car with you?"

Sakura felt her skin prickle in agitation, "Does it really matter? It's just a question."

"Sakura, I would request that you would not listen to anything about myself that that man you are with may try to tell you. It would be detrimental to –"

"Hey, when did you start speaking _robot_?" Sakura asked accusingly, "What's he going to try to tell me, huh? Give me a reason to believe you over him."

"I don't have one," Gaara said without missing a beat, "I can only request that you trust me, and respect my privacy. My past, my background, it might not be of interest to many people, but I do care how it is reported by second parties. Any falsehood or misunderstanding – "

"So people talk about your past but they get it wrong and you don't want me to believe some misapprehension about you." Sakura said, interpreting his bullshit fancy talk with ease. It annoyed her so much when people danced around the issue with long words or advanced terminology. Bah.

Neji gave a little 'tuh' sound, rolling his eyes.

Sakura shushed him.

"I am not who I once was," Gaara said matter-of-factly, "I have withdrawn myself from the inflammatory situations that were exacerbating my issues. I see no point in rehashing old events and attributing old traits upon myself where they no longer exist."

"You don't want me to judge you for how you used to be," Sakura translated, making a face, "Hey, we're supposed to be fellow students, teacher and student, even, so we have a professional relationship at least. Relationships are based in trust. How am I supposed to trust you when you refuse to tell me about your past?"

"Would you trust me enough to tell me why you use a cane to walk and why you have a psychosomatic limp?" Gaara asked pointedly.

"Now take me to that heaven I once defied, Thy presence, thy embrace!' - He spoke, and died!" Sakura quoted, examining her fingernails.

Neji was now staring at her as though contemplating forcibly ejecting her from the car.

"…Excuse me?" Gaara said, sounding truly baffled.

"No, William Cowper's poetry is not relevant to this discussion," Sakura said dryly, "Much like my limp and my cane."

She saw Neji's eyes flick to her cane and back to the road rapidly. So, even Mr Stoic was curious about her limp.

"I promise you there is no great scandal or trauma in my past," Gaara said evenly, "I am ashamed of how I used to be. I want to forget the past."

Sakura could relate.

She made a humming noise, weighing it all up, and nodded, "'Kay. You don't need to tell me anything, oh-mysterious-sensei. Neji, don't tell me anything about Gaara. I don't wanna know."

"Sakura, he's _dangerous_." Neji said incredulously.

"I'm not so helpless myself." Sakura gave him a wicked grin, "If he ever gave me any trouble, I can always whack him with my cane."

"I'd rather you didn't." Gaara said mildly, "I take it you are too busy for a tutoring session?"

"Always," Sakura agreed, sighing, "But I'll see you when I see you. That means _bye_, you poor, misguided fool."

Gaara hung up, cutting off his chuckle.

Sakura looked stubbornly ahead at the stormy clouds rolling over the horizon, pointedly ignoring the way Neji's rage was tangible, sparking in the air.

"You… are… _incorrigible._" Neji gritted out, too angry for words.

"Big word," Sakura commented, taking another sip of her coffee, "Hmm, this is good coffee."

xxxxxxxx

She sat on the bench, staring into the room opposite her. There was a giant pot plant obscuring half her view, great green leaves littering the floor at the base of the pot due to some careless cleaner, the earthy smell overpowering the traditional hospital smells.

A doctor walked past in a hurry. She gave his swishing white coat a dirty look.

She hated the antibacterial gel they forced you to wash your hands with. It dried unnaturally quickly and the alcohol inside stung any scratches or cuts like a bitch.

That sounded horribly obedient, she thought mournfully.

"Sakura-chan." Kabuto called, sounding pleasantly amiable for such a creepy guy.

Sakura flicked him a look and slowly got up from the bench, gripping her cane. Kabuto did not offer to help, just stood there and smiled vaguely.

"Kabuto." She said coolly, "You're late."

"Two minutes and forty seconds is hardly late." Kabuto said genially, "Shall we be off, then?"

She shrugged and joined him, matching his casual, unhurried pace thankfully, her legs not up to long-distance sprinting at that point.

"Sakura?" Neji came out of the office and stared, files in his hands.

"Can't talk, Neji, incredibly busy right now." Sakura said smoothly, brushing past him.

Kabuto smiled politely at him as they passed, but Sakura thought she saw his body tense as though anticipating a fight.

Hmmm. Interesting.

Neji had kindly enough dropped her off at the hospital since he had to go there too (to be her mother's lackey), and she had lost him by ducking into the girl's bathroom where he was far too proper to follow.

"Sakura, what should I tell your mother?"

"Don't say anything." Sakura stopped walking and turned to glare at him, "Not a word. I'm just going to hang out with a friend."

She saw Kabuto preen a little at that.

She raised a withering eyebrow at him and he smirked in response.

Neji gave Kabuto a doubtful look, "And how old is your 'friend?'"

"Old enough," Kabuto said solemnly, "She's not taking advantage of me, I swear."

"Funny." Neji looked at them both disparagingly, leaving no doubt just how funny he found it. To Sakura's alarm, he looked like a big brother might if he'd caught his little sister about to leave the house in a skirt as short as a belt.

"Don't make me regret covering for you." Neji met Sakura's eyes with a stern look.

For all his blushing and blustering, Sakura thought resentfully, he was a lot tougher than he looked.

"You won't." She said confidently. She was just going to work a little on the side, that was all. It was hardly enough to qualify getting the big brother act from someone she hardly knew.

"I assure you, Neji-san," Kabuto said, suddenly whipping out a respectful voice, his expression becoming serious, "Sakura won't come to harm in my care."

"Care?" Sakura repeated indignantly.

Neji did not look appeased, but he did back up into the office a little, "If your mother asks me where you are, I will say I don't know."

"Thanks." Sakura smiled at him sincerely.

Kabuto pushed his glasses up a little and the tension in his body melted away.

xxxxxxxx

"So, what are you a doctor in, anyway?" Sakura asked, getting into the car with only the slightest flicker of unease that she always felt – Kabuto only increased the feeling – no, she wouldn't think of it today. Today she was going to finally pursue her interest in science and the teachings of her idol. She refused to be the one to spoil it.

Kabuto slid into the driver's seat and started the car without a word, glancing all around them before beginning to reverse the vehicle.

Sakura watched the hospital car park blend into the road with a sour look on her face, "I kind of asked you a question."

"I kind of ignored it," Kabuto said, tilting the mirror slightly, a little frown appearing between his brows, "But my answer is this: I am a doctor in several areas."

"Bullshit." Sakura said incredulously, "You have a baby face. There's no way you've studied long enough."

Kabuto actually stopped the car, disbelief and amusement mingling in his expression as he gazed at her.

"Baby face? I'm twenty-three." He said, adjusting his glasses with what looked like an actual smile on his face, all vagueness gone.

"Oh really?" Sakura sat back in her chair, regarding him with her own cold smile, "It occurred to me, Kabuto, that for you to be talking to Orochimaru-sama himself on the phone, you must be pretty high up in the company."

Kabuto started the car again, ignoring the furious bibs of the car horns from behind. He sighed, "I suppose you could call me Orochimaru-sama's right-hand man."

"That means so many different things," Sakura observed, "But I'm guessing you're just a tiny bit too important to be recruiting students for Orochimaru-sama, picking them up and driving them yourself to the lab."

Kabuto gave a little chuckle. "Important? I work hard, I guess. You seem to be a smart girl, Sakura-chan –"

"I get by." Sakura said, idly batting at the little tree air freshener hanging from the mirror.

"- So I assume you don't put any stock in what the newspapers say about Orochimaru-sama?"

"Obviously," Sakura scoffed, "They have no idea what they're talking about."

Kabuto gave a secretive little smirk at that, patting her on the head once more, ignoring her venomous glare.

"You should," He said lightly, "At least a quarter of what they say is almost true."

"For example…?"

"What we do at Orochimaru corp. is not always strictly what you might refer to as 'legal.'" Kabuto admitted.

Sakura considered her cane, running her fingers along the metal surface. After a moment of brief reflection, she tapped it in the rhythm Gaara had, as she'd memorised it automatically.

"I don't always follow the law to the letter, myself." Sakura said, meeting Kabuto's eyes with a bold stare.

Kabuto gave a little sigh, "You aren't like most sixteen year olds I've met."

"Then I assume you've only met a few," Sakura rolled her eyes, "I assure you, I am the epitome of sulky teenager."

"May I ask what Orochimaru-sama did to inspire such loyalty in you?"

"Ask away," Sakura said dryly, grinning when he sighed once more, "I won't tell you either way."

"I'd like it if we didn't have any secrets between us, Sakura-chan," Kabuto said gravely, "Orochimaru-sama insists on his employees being completely open and honest with him."

"Doctor of what…?" Sakura countered.

For such a young guy, he sure did sigh a lot.

* * *

Thanks to Achlys for the song choice :) It really does fit Naruto and Hinata!

A fairly long chapter to make up for the HUGE WAIT :) Sorry about that…

So, Hinata's happiness could not last. Not with her darling daddy there to spoil things. Naruto did his best, though, the poor little dear.

Neji's worried about Kabuto and Gaara, but one must wonder which one Sakura should be worried about?

This. Took. FOREVER TO WRITE!

I wrote it backwards, lol. Well, sort of. I wrote it in jumbled bits and pieces, knowing where it would all fit in later on, then threw it all together. Just took ages to meld the bits together.

Ooh, I forgot to mention, I started back at uni and I ONLY HAVE TWO DAYS A WEEK NOW. WHAT THE SHEEEEEEEEET.

Yay! :)

**Quick poll for fun:** Is there anything in the Naruto manga that really annoyed you?

For example, Sakura's character derailment pisses me off.

Warning, reviews may have spoilers :)


	9. So you see, now, now I believe in me

Quotes:

Sakura - Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring. – Marilyn Monroe.

Hinata - Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life, but define yourself. ~ Harvey Fierstein

* * *

"… So sign here, here… and here, please." Kabuto pointed at various spots on the paper smoothed against the table.

Sakura tapped the pen against her lips idly, eyes scanning the paper.

Not an ordinary employee contract. This had been written up by a lawyer specifically for her. Orochimaru's own seal, the characteristic winking snake, coiled at the top of the page.

Sakura didn't speak legalese. She couldn't understand most of what was being said. The basic stuff, her working hours and pay, she could read perfectly. Enough to see her wage was a bit low.

But she glanced around the room, and knew she would sign anyway.

She was in a genuine laboratory. Vials and scales and Bunsen burners galore, gleaming surfaces, tiled floor so clean you could eat off of it…

And stacks and stacks of medical textbooks.

She was practically drooling at the thought of working here.

Besides, she trusted Orochimaru, and anything associated with him.

She signed the paper with no further hesitation, aware of Kabuto's eyes on her face the whole time.

"Right!" She said cheerily, clicking her pen off, "Do you now own my soul?"

"For the majority of the week, yes." Kabuto smiled at her, "Allow me to introduce your… ahem, test subjects."

The door opened and three people entered the room.

"Hey," A dark-haired youth strolled in, his grin a little mocking, "You the newbie? I'm Zaku."

"Kin." The lone female said.

"My name is Dosu." Said the heavily bandaged man. Sakura was uncomfortably reminded of lepers, and wondered what 'tests' she was supposed to perform on these people.

"For today," Kabuto spoke up as though reading her mind, "I want you to just take a blood sample from each of them, just to test the waters. As you gain more experience, we will allow you to perform more complex experiments. Under supervision, of course."

Kabuto handed her a wickedly sharp-looking needle.

Sakura gave him a deeply unimpressed look. "Soooo," She said, drawing out the syllable, "For my _first_ day on the job, you want me to perform phlebotomy, an invasive procedure. A procedure that has, in unpractised hands, caused death. You want me, a frankly useless, untrained sixteen year old, to handle needles and hope that I jab it in their veins just right? You don't think there is the slightest chance something may go wrong?"

There was a brief moment of silence.

"I have faith in you." Kabuto said.

"Excellent, off we go then." Sakura grinned, "Who's first?"

For some reason, they all looked a bit green all of a sudden.

xxxxxxxx

"You know a lot about medicine." Kabuto commented, sliding next to her as she washed her hands at the sink.

"No more so than your average medical drama fan." Sakura shook her head, scrubbing her hands clean with the soap provided.

"I am a professional myself, Sakura-chan. I can recognise skill and expertise."

"My mother's a nurse. She's taught me a lot."

"Your mother doesn't seem to like me very much."

"You are in your twenties, male, and you refer to me as 'Sakura-chan.' She's more suspicious than your average mother, I'll grant you."

"Why might that be?" Kabuto asked, grabbing her wrist. His finger traced the kidney cancer band she had recently purchased and put on for the first time, "Because of your limp, and this?"

"You think I had cancer?" Sakura asked, breathing out harshly, trying not to explode at him for touching her.

"I don't know. I won't ask. I know it's hard to –"

"I didn't." Sakura said, ripping her wrist out of his hand, "I would have thought, as a professional, you would be able to tell."

"You never know." Kabuto said gently, looking curious, "Come on, tell me. What happened to you? What's wrong with your legs?"

"Diagnose me." Sakura snapped, moving away from him, every clunk of her cane against the tiles an embarrassment.

"OK." He said, the light flashing off his glasses as he tilted his head, "You broke both of your legs as recently as six months ago. They are healing up nicely, I assume you owe that to your mother. One of your legs was damaged so badly that it will never be the same again. I can see how it twists at the knee slightly. The other was a clean break, you were lucky. They may ache in cold weather, when it rains. You may never truly be free of the pain. You need to use the medicine I gave you."

Sakura threw her cane aside and tried to punch him, not thinking straight. He dodged her punch and held her fist securely in his hand.

"If you knew all that, why ask me?!" She snarled in his face.

"My, my," He muttered, "It looks like you have a dark side, Sakura-chan. Who died in your family? Why do you wear that band?"

"I'm a charitable person!" She bit out, struggling to free her wrist, "Let go of me!"

"I find that hard to believe. I told you before, I only work with those I trust. We have many candidates to train up. You are not our only option. I simply want to understand you, but if you continue to lose your temper in this way, I will discharge you."

Sakura's glare was venomous. She pulled her wrist free. Her voice came out cold and hard, but oddly calm somehow, "And if you ever touch me like that again, I will remove your balls. I'm here to work, not chat. I don't have to tell you a damn thing, so put the idea out of your mind. We aren't gonna have a cute little tête-à-tête about my private life. Me wearing a fucking charity wristband is none of your goddamn business."

Kabuto's gaze was analytical.

He pushed his glasses up more firmly and smiled, "Fair enough, Sakura-chan. I won't question you further."

"Creepy fucking bastard." Sakura, who had no filter when it came to her mouth and her temper mixing, spat out, rubbing her wrist in obvious disgust. She retrieved her cane from the floor.

"Thank you," Kabuto said mildly, "Shall we discuss negotiating a small pay rise in light of your valuable skills?"

"I," Sakura gave a mock-bow, narrowly avoiding smacking him in the face with her cane, "am going home now. I'll be back tomorrow. Oh, but can we make my shift later? I'll have to miss school otherwise."

Kabuto wiped his mouth, looking away. Eventually he replied, "If you read your contract again, you will notice that your hours are non-negotiable."

Sakura raised her eyebrows, "I might be wrong," She started slowly, "But I believe I have a thing called civil rights?"

"Not when you work here," Kabuto flashed her a smirk, "This isn't your local charity shop you've signed up to work for, Sakura-chan. This is Orochimaru-sama's time and money, both devoted to train up sympathetic medical students for his cause. Not everyone gets this chance. You were extraordinarily lucky."

Sakura gave him a look usually displayed by poker players who were doubting the other player's bluff, an unconvinced sneer, eyebrow raised, lip curled.

"If I get in trouble for this," Sakura pointed at him, gazing steadily at him, "I will eviscerate you."

"I would welcome you to try." Kabuto replied pleasantly.

Sakura pursed her lips, staring at him, hard, as though trying to figure him out.

There was a flash of a forced quirky grin and then she was gone, bag over her shoulder, little broken legs stumbling underneath her weight, cane tapping out her path.

Kabuto leaned against the counter, sighing. Sakura reminded him of a bird, a particularly stunning and talented bird, whose wings had been clipped, but still tried to fly stubbornly.

He would love to find the person who had clipped those wings. He would love to patch them up for her, and find a way to diffuse that ticking time bomb of a temper of hers.

He glanced over the other side of the room where Sakura had carelessly left the contract, evidently uncaring for the potential consequences or trusting in Orochimaru enough not to worry.

For now, he would leave Sakura's wings be.

xxxxxxxx

"Gaara!" Sakura snarled down the phone, limping down the stairs.

"Sakura." He replied dryly, sounding unconcerned by her sudden ire.

"I am _furious!_ Wanna study?"

"Is fury conducive to studying?"

"Oh, man, you've no idea. I just need to take my mind off… stuff. I can't go home like this, I'm too –"

"You can come to my house, if you like."

Sakura stopped still. "Uh, what, like… alone?"

"I would also be there."

"Ha ha, you are hilarious. You know what I mean."

"It's just me here."

_He's dangerous._ Neji's voice rang insistently in her head.

"If I'm honest, I don't think I know you well enough to go to your house."

"Sakura." His voice was flat, "There is the distinct possibility that my grandmother is about to return home – " He broke off, his voice fainter as he moved away from the phone, " – with what looks like baked goods. If you believe you, the most frightening girl in school, can overpower myself and my grandmother, then I believe you can risk coming round."

Sakura thought about it, her stomach growling. Scariest girl in school? "You say the sweetest things," She cooed, genuinely pleased, "I'll come over. Surrender the baked goods and I'll try not to beat your ass too badly."

"I do not cooperate with terrorist threats."

"Oh please, Cookie Monster, hand over the dough."

Gaara's chuckle may or may not have sent butterflies frolicking through her stomach.

xxxxxxxx

"I don't know if I'd call this studying." Sakura mumbled, voice low and heavy in her chest from how she was lying down a little awkwardly, all of her weight pressing on her arm.

"Then you obviously don't do it right." Gaara replied through a mouthful of lemon cookie, smiling in a way that made his eyes crinkle up.

"Well, I know I'm not holding this damn thing right." Sakura groused, grappling with the guitar until it nearly smacked her in the face.

"Sit up and be gentle with it. It's not something to wrestle."

"It's fucking heavy." Sakura lowered the damn thing gently to the floor, nearly laughing at Gaara's worried expression, as though she was swinging his firstborn child wildly around the room instead of delicately putting a guitar down.

Gaara was lying on his bed, balancing a plate of cookies on his chest and Sakura sat on the floor in front of his radiator, enjoying the heat emanating from behind. His room – and house – was not at all what she had been expecting. When she thought boy-room she thought of mess, of dirty socks and apple cores and dog-eared porn magazines hastily shoved under beds, but Gaara's room was tidy, the carpet white as though new, his various bookcases and wooden furniture unstained, and not a porno in sight.

It was almost disturbing.

"Did you notice it's snowing?" Gaara asked, brushing crumbs off his chest and nodding at the window.

Sakura scrambled up, ignoring the pain in her legs and gazed out of the window.

"Oh bugger." She said worriedly, staring blankly out at the white world beyond the window, thinking only of cancelled buses and her mother's frightened face and emergency calls to fucking Tezuka and the police being called again and –

"What, are you one of those people who detests snow for no good reason?"

Oh and why can't she just be _fucking normal?_

Why do the police have to be called when she forgets to call home?

Sakura glared down at her legs and impulsively threw her cane away.

"Yep," She turned around with a smile, ignoring the concerned look on Gaara's face, "Snow's just cold and wet and it gets everywhere. Ugh. I'm just worrying about how I'm going to get home…"

Gaara stiffened, licking his lips.

"My grandmother wouldn't mind if you just stayed over. I'm sure you've noticed we've got plenty of extra room." He suggested, seeming almost nervous.

Sakura smoothed back her hair, thinking. Gaara had had plenty of opportunity to attack her today, alone in his room with his grandmother dead to the world, asleep in bed. She could definitely take care of him if he turned nasty, for sure.

"I'll need to call my mother." She said, "What's for dinner?"

Gaara smiled.

xxxxxxxx

There was a spare toothbrush still in its packaging hidden in the back of the bathroom cabinet that Gaara had rather shyly told her she could claim. She was grateful that she wouldn't have to slink home the next morning doing the walk of shame with morning breath to boot.

She took a long, hard look in the bathroom mirror, examining herself closely.

She looked pale, honest-to-God pale as a corpse. Her lips were tight – probably the dull ache in her legs flaring up – and she was frowning without realising it. She relaxed her brow (which was an actual effort to do) and let out a sigh, examining her teeth as she did so.

Her pain medication, as her mother had calmly reminded her on the phone, was at home.

She could cope, Sakura had replied, she would be fine.

Her mother had hung up, too furious for words, in the end. Before the end there had been lots of words like _risking your health_ and_ didn't raise you to be this stupid_ and _who is this friend anyway?_

You may never truly be free of the pain, Kabuto had said.

I just want to be normal, Sakura thought helplessly. I don't want to have fucking metal pins in my legs and half a fucking kneecap. I don't want to have to see a psychiatrist.

As she stared into her slightly reddened eyes, she felt a particularly vicious spike of pain in her bad leg and nearly burst into tears.

Normal.

The anxious girl's face came to her mind suddenly, a vivid memory of the tears trapped in her eyelashes, the trembling of her hands and mouth and the sound of her shallow, raspy breathing. Sakura had the strangest urge to talk to her, thinking she would know exactly how it felt to not be like everyone else. It would be good to talk to someone who was as 'weird' as she was – maybe they could have their own brand of 'normal' as friends.

Without stopping to think about it, she was already scanning the social networking site she used most frequently on her phone for the girl. There were a fair few 'Hinata's' rolling around but only one that attended the same school as Sakura.

Huh. _Hyuuga_ Hinata. Possible relation to Neji? Interesting.

She sent a friend request and sent her a message, one after the other with the lightning-fast expertise of a teenager who grew up on the internet.

_Hey, I don't know if you remember me but we met once. I helped you out. Thing is, I reckon you might need a bit more help. More than just a sixteen year old telling you to take big breaths and your grandma. I know a woman who specialises in mental health, who would be happy to help you out, I'm sure. Her name's Tezuka Rin, search her online and her number will pop up._

_Plus, I thought it would be cool if we could hang out sometime._

_Sakura._

She got a reply four minutes later.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Thank you very much for the assistance you provided. I just get very silly sometimes and I embarrass myself. I have been wondering if my issues are severe enough to warrant seeing a professional, but recent events have informed me that I am not strong enough to do this alone. I will contact the woman you referred to for advice, so thank you again. _

_It is good to be able to express myself like this. In real life, I can hardly speak. I just get very anxious in social situations, I can't bear the thought of embarrassing myself or offending anyone._

_Thank you once more, Sakura. I would like to hang out. Out of curiosity, you obviously noted my issues in our last meeting, is there any name you would put to them? I would like to know what exactly is wrong with me._

_Hinata. X_

_No problem, I didn't do much. You aren't 'silly,' you have genuine problems. If you've been having panic attacks and your anxiety is limiting your life and wellbeing, you need to see someone. The conventional method would be to contact your GP and ask for a referral to a mental health service, but I can hook you up quicker with Tezuka. Not strong enough? We'll see._

_Most people chat shit anyway, I wish they had your problems._

_No problem again. Your issues? At a guess… probably social phobia and selective mutism. I'm no pro, though. I'd recommend CBT._

_We could go see a movie. You wouldn't have to talk then._

_Sakura._

_Dear Sakura,_

_I have never had a panic attack before in my life. You calmed me down and helped me through it. I thought I was dying. Thank you, truly, for being there for me._

_I just wish I could speak to my father about this. But, to him, 'social phobia' is just some name shrinks give laziness and rudeness, an excuse for my inability to do what he wishes I would. I am sure that, if I could say it eloquently enough, he would understand. I just need to find the words._

_That is a thoughtful suggestion, but I'm afraid crowded theatres are often too overwhelming for me to bear. I'm sorry, I know I'm just being difficult._

_Hinata. X_

_OK, you may have just made me tear up. No problem times infinity. Stop thanking me before I have a breakdown._

_I could talk to your dad, explain why he's a douchenozzle and totally wrong._

_Dude, no. Not difficult. The world's difficult, you just suffer more for it than most. How's this? You decide the place, the time, everything. Never apologise for being yourself. You aren't silly or difficult. You've got a stutter, I've got a limp. It's what we've got, not what we are._

_Jeez I got kinda deep here, just ignore me, I swear I'm Angry Girl for realz._

_Sakura._

Twenty minutes into their conversation Sakura was perched on the toilet seat and her thumb was aching from tapping buttons constantly.

Gaara knocked at the door, his low voice calling through the wood, "Sakura, you in there?"

"No, the door locked itself," Sakura said absently, "Yeah I'm in here. What's up?"

"Well, dinner is ready. My grandmother has cooked real food and everything."

"I'll be right down, little Miss Sassypants." Sakura grumbled, coming off the internet before Hinata could reply with another heartfelt thank you.

She felt strange, sort of buzzing with energy. Rejuvenated, that was the word._ Normalnormalnormal_ wasn't bouncing around her head anymore, now she was thinking about herself as a whole, not just a damaged pair of legs.

Never apologise for being yourself, she'd boldly said to Hinata. It was another one of those phrases that are drummed into you in the Sweetness and Light section of the internet, the websites that say things like 'weird is cool,' and 'age is just a number.' But maybe there was something in this particular phrase, some meaning she had failed to derive from it upon her first hearing. She had once been told that she was uniquely herself and that was a wonderful thing.

If you broke Haruno Sakura down into multiple parts, you would get this:

One reasonably intelligent mind.

Bitchin' hair.

A tendency to hide her problems behind her wit.

Two fucked up legs.

Razor sharp killer wit.

Well-adjusted, happy, healthy parents with little to no behavioural problems.

The bestest of friends – the endlessly devoted Ino, the hilariously prickly Neji, the sexily knowing Gaara and the tentatively sweet Hinata.

Two unbroken, perfectly working arms, thank you very much.

A cane her mother poached from the hospital.

The glorious Tezuka.

A fuckton of DVDs.

No life-threatening illness.

And finally, an mp3 player that worked on oddly-numbered days.

Haruno Sakura didn't have it too bad, that was for sure. Even broken bones and fucked up heads can heal over time.

Maybe it was time to let it all go and move on with her fucked up, glorious life.

xxxxxxxx

She woke up in the middle of the night with stabbing pains in her legs and let out as many swear words as she knew, hissing profanity under her breath. She splayed her legs, stretching them out to the corners of the mattress, clutching the sheets.

She was in one of the guest rooms, one with pink and yellow striped wallpaper and faded posters. She took a deep, calming breath and buried her face in her pillow, feeling as though the lower half of her body was slowly being crushed.

Her phone beeped a notification.

She stabbed the buttons in the dark until her internet popped up (Gaara's grandmother, or her neighbours, had _fabulously_ strong wi-fi) and Hinata's words filled her screen.

_Dear Sakura,_

_A lot of the time, I don't like who I am. I'm meek and quiet and I can't stand up for anyone, least of all myself. I'm not particularly good at any subject. I don't have any friends. My little sister should be the one inheriting what I will and my cousin deserves what I have so much more than I do._

_But I think you are right. This is my life and it won't stand still as I get better, I can't waste my time on self-loathing and wishing. I'm going to change. I will be better. I won't listen to my father._

_I know you didn't want me to say it again, but it's all I can think – thank you._

_Hinata. X_

Sakura smiled and closed her eyes, pain forgotten.

* * *

Strip away the bravado and witty words, and you have a sixteen year old girl with broken legs. Sakura pretends she's fearless, but she is terrified of everything.

Kabuto is the most effing creepy creeper since creepers began to creep.

Heads up, Hiashi gon' have some _problems_ wit' his daughter.

The theme song of this chapter is probably _I am_ by Hilary Duff. Empowerment, yay.

Sakura and Hinata meet in the middle and probably have the longest, most in-depth convo Hinata has ever been involved in during this fic. They are both just very lonely girls with problems.

(Don't you just love how Sakura lists Tezuka as one of the things that make up Haruno Sakura? That fickle weirdo)

Some of Sakura's secrets come out. The whats and not whys at the moment, sorry! More to come on that front very soon.

**Quick poll for funsies: **What song would you have played at your funeral?

No suggestions.


	10. I am a voice yet waiting to be heard

Quotes:

Sakura: Self pity becomes your oxygen. But you learned to breathe it without a gasp. So, nobody even notices you're hurting. ― Paul Monette

Hinata: When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know. ― _Laurie Halse Anderson, Speak__  
_

* * *

…_I had been looking forward to the dance. I was worried, of course, but I knew Naruto would be there. We danced and he promised to help me. It was perfect. But my father saw that I had stopped dancing with the boy he had sent over and he was furious. He started shouting at me and Naruto tried to defend me but he just got angrier. I burst into tears in front of everyone. It was awful._

"Oh that stupid son of mine," Hiroko said angrily, swilling her tea around with one long, elegant hand. She set the cup back down on the table, "When will he learn? He's just being spiteful! I know I made mistakes, but for you to suffer -! Oh, it's outrageous."

Hinata had written down the events of the ball in her diary and shown it to her grandmother, sitting in awkward silence as she grew more and more furious reading it.

"I'm calling him!" She announced. Hinata's eyes grew wide in alarm, "No, don't fret dear, he won't dare say a word to you about this again!"

She grabbed her phone and an old, frayed book and flipped through the pages. Hinata craned her neck and saw her home phone number written under the name '_Idiot son.'_

Hiroko dialled the number, cursing under her breath the whole time.

Hinata bit her lip, imagining her father's reaction.

"Yes, hello? This is your mother speaking. Hiashi, did I raise you to be a bully? To behave out of spite and malice? Your own daughter comes to me in tears, yes, tears! Because she has actual, genuine problems that you are too bull-headed to understand, problems that cause her endless pain that you, as her father, should be working to help her with! Sending her here every week is just you avoiding the issue as usual. Oh, do not bring your brother into this. This is not about Hizashi. This is about you, and your poor daughter. If I find out that you have made her suffer again, I will cut you out of my will and leave my wealth to a cattery! Do you hear me? A cattery! Hinata has _actual problems_ that she cannot help and you are going to help her to the best of your limited ability."

Hinata's fingers were digging into her legs, terrified. How could she possibly go home tonight after what her grandmother had said to her father? He was sure to be furious.

"She doesn't deserve this," Her grandmother said, quieter now, her grip on the phone loosening. She listened to his response. She sighed, "Hiashi, please. You know I already feel guilty enough. Hinata will not go the same way. I will make sure of it. She will be stronger. She already speaks more than she used to. Just stop pressuring her."

Hinata could hear her father's voice through the phone. He didn't sound angry, to her surprise.

Hiroko eventually hung up and gave her a wide smile. "You see?" She said gently, "Problem solved."

Hinata nodded with a faint smile of her own, stroking the cat on her lap carefully.

"Now, you wanted me to ring up this psychiatrist woman as well, hm? Let's see… here's the number you gave me… I'll give her a call now. Hello? This is Hyuuga Hiroko. I understand you are well-versed in the subject of mental health, and my granddaughter has some anxiety issues she needs to work through. If you would devote a small amount of your time to assisting her, I would be happy to pay you. Hm? You don't require payment? Well, if you insist… Her name is Hinata. She received a recommendation of you from one of your patients, Haruno Sakura. You sound surprised. I see. Thank you. Goodbye."

Hiroko hung up and turned around to smile at Hinata, "She said come see her anytime. Seemed like she was a fancy expensive type, but she didn't want any money. We'll have to thank your friend for the recommendation if she manages to help you."

xxxxxxxx

_Hey Hinata-chan, yor sis gave me yor number, wanna hang out somewhere?_

_itz Naruto btw._

Hinata stared at her phone for a full minute, waiting for it to sink in.

After she'd hyperventilated in excitement for a while, she quickly thumbed a reply out and sent it.

_Hello, Naruto-kun. It's very nice of you to offer, but I was just wondering what you meant by 'hanging out?'_

_Hinata. X_

The reply came immediately.

_ didn't mean dat. n. I ment a frnd tng. I don't do h%k ups. Argh I can't explain w/o sounding even mo LAME._

Hinata frowned in confusion.

_Do you mean hook ups? If so, what does that mean in that context?_

_Hinata. X_

Five slow minutes passed before a reply arrived.

_f u don't kno I won't tel u, sav my dignity. Don't g%gle it f u lIk me al. Misunderstanding. I wnt 2 go eat ramen w u az promisd. unlS ur dads reading Ovr yor sholdr & he wants 2 beat me up ^-^. then I'm asking u 2 go 2 d library w me._

_I'm not sure what a google is so you don't have to worry about that. I'd love to eat ramen with you, it was delicious the first time you had me try it. I'm afraid I can't understand the rest of your message._

_Hinata. X_

_U DON'T KNO WOW G%GLE IS? U NEED ME. U SO NEED ME AZ UR NU BEST FRND. I CN DROP SASUKE NO PROB 4 U. IM GONNA INTRODUCE U 2 SO MANY AWESUM THINGS, SPACEBALLS, SRCH ENGINES, AMAZON. U WIL luv ME 4EVER. HAH n woriez I wasn't ^set o NEthing. Ur dads an ass tho u shud git a BetA 1. Mine's awesome, we cn share. Yeah, im a supporting kind of guy, that's jst how I roL. I'll go ne plac w u if u need me, dnt wori. Got ur bak._

_Please call me, Naruto-kun, I really have no idea how to read your texts. If you could just verbally summarise what you meant, I would be very grateful. I'm sorry if I can't reply very easily._

_Hinata. X_

**Call incoming: **_Naruto-kun._

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After Naruto's long and rather one-sided phone conversation, Hinata was driven home by her grandmother, who had cheered up after remembering her favourite gardening shop had a sale on that day.

It was a bright kind of Sunday. Hinata let her arm rest on the wound-down car window and felt her skin tingle pleasantly in the sun. There was a persistent breeze chasing the heat away, so it wasn't stiflingly hot. She liked days like this.

She was concentrating hard on not being frightened. Whenever she thought about returning home to her father her stomach churned in anxiety, but she forced the feeling down and focused on her conversation with Sakura. She _would_ be better. She would _not_ let herself be held back any longer.

"Right, here we are." Hiroko said, pulling up outside the house, raising her pencilled eyebrows over her sunglasses at her, "Are you going to be alright, sweetheart? Do you want me to come in with you?"

Hinata shook her head determinedly, giving her grandmother a bold smile. She looked a little surprised, but smiled back in a relieved kind of way.

They said their goodbyes and separated. Hinata went home alone, the sun's warmth vanishing as she stepped into the hall, taking her shoes off automatically.

She entered the living room cautiously. Her stomach dropped unpleasantly in shock when she saw her father sitting alone, reading a book called _Cut._

He shut the book quietly upon seeing her. She gazed at him, mouth beginning to dry up. He had such a stern face, a thick, hard jaw, the planes of his cheeks cut like rock, his eyes penetrating. It might have been his face that frightened her into silence, or it might have been the fact that he was her father.

They had nothing in common. No shared likes or dislikes. He hated idle talk and inane conversations, but always expected the right answers to his questions. He had a way of looking at her that could strip her of any confidence she had built up, and today was no exception.

"Hinata," He said, standing, "I had a call from your grandmother."

Hinata flinched, tucking her arms in and ducking her head.

"She wants me to do more for you. To help you with your problem. I've been thinking about how I can do that, and I decided the best way is to give you a goal. One month from now, I am going to have a talk with the workforce. I will introduce you to them and you will give a speech on what you intend to do when you inherit the company."

Hinata's head was swimming. She put a hand on the doorframe to steady herself and forced her breathing to remain steady.

A speech? In front of everyone? She felt a surge of fear so strong it made her vision white out for a split second, her fingertips tingling and her body started to tremble.

"This way, you can prove yourself to the team," He said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He seemed to truly believe that he was giving her a fantastic opportunity here, that he was being kind. "And if you ever have trouble speaking again, you can remember your success and it will motivate you."

Hiashi walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, "I know I've not made it easy for you but… It's hard for me to understand. I'm sorry."

Hinata burst into tears. He stiffened. She let her head fall down until it rested against his chest and slowly, hesitantly put her arms around him, sniffling into his shirt. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and regular. He gave a sigh that she felt go right through her, and placed a heavy hand on top of her head.

"I think we'll eat out tonight. All of us. You can pick the restaurant, within reason."

Hinata buried her face into his shirt and sobbed harder.

xxxxxxxx

Seeing as it was a Sunday, her mother relented and said she could stay a little longer, but she would have to be home before dark.

Sakura spent her time mostly wandering around Gaara's house, examining his furniture and decorations, laughing at the old photographs of him as a kid in his grandmother's room. The house was nice, but it basically screamed 'rich old lady.' The wallpaper was faded roses and the carpet was either beige or vomit coloured.

Chiyo, his grandmother, turned out to be an the old lady of the house. She was blessed with a wicked sense of humour. Sakura liked her almost straightaway, but she had the unfortunate habit of asking personal questions to near-strangers.

"I just wanted to ask about you and Gaara-chan…" Chiyo said leadingly, her eyes sly. Her kitchen was pretty fabulous, with lime green countertops and matching cupboards, black tiles and strangely enough, an art print of a puppet bending to the will of a masked puppeteer.

"Do go on." Sakura prompted, bending over with some difficulty to examine the scones baking in the oven.

"Are you a couple?"

"Nope. Just friends."

"I see. Now, if it's not too impertinent, do you mind if I ask about your disability?" Chiyo seemed genuinely curious.

"I could say no, but I figure you'll ask anyway," Sakura said ruefully, sighing, "I broke my legs. I was in a wheelchair for a while. Had to stay out of school. I'm back now though. It was a bad time for me, but I'm over it now."

"Hmm. I get it. And, your legs… did they break themselves or did they have a little help?"

Sakura slammed her fist onto the counter as she shouted, "Why does everyone suddenly want to know my business?" She felt a surge of familiar fury, grabbed on to it blissfully and let it take her over, "Complete strangers come up to me in the street and ask! Old people give up their seat for me on the bus, men nearly kill themselves to get to doors before me to open them, when I was in a wheelchair people acted like I was invisible or that whatever I had was contagious, and that I could bear but I am sick of everyone being so desperate to know _what happened to me! I don't want to think about it!_"

"Sakura." Gaara said, peering around the kitchen door, "What's going on?"

"I upset her, it's my fault." Chiyo said, frowning, "Go on and let us have a little chat. I'll give her an extra scone."

Gaara looked at Sakura, who was trembling with rage, her eyes closed, trying to regain her control.

"OK, but I'll be close by if I'm needed."

The door closed behind him.

"You have had it rough, girl, I can tell," Chiyo said, "You've got some demons in you. You and Gaara make an interesting pair. He may seem calm and controlled now, but he was more like you once. It's not my place to tell you the details, but you should talk to him about it sometime. It helps, when you have others who are like you."

Sakura opened her mouth, the words tripping over themselves on her tongue in their eagerness to just _tell someone_.

Chiyo's wrinkled forehead creased a little more in a frown.

Her throat ached. She swallowed.

"I'm gonna go talk to Gaara." She said lamely, gesturing behind her.

Chiyo just nodded.

xxxxxxxx

"Your grandma needs people skills," Sakura sniped as Gaara ushered her into his bedroom, "For a minute there I thought she was gonna grab my cane and examine it."

"She sometimes takes interest in things others do not, yes." Gaara sighed, and that was really not what Sakura had been saying. Sakura had been politely suggesting that his grandma was batshit crazy and uncivilised to boot.

"I don't even know what I'm doing here," Sakura threw her hands up, irritated, sitting down on Gaara's bed and putting her face in her hands, "I don't even know you!"

Gaara pulled a textbook out of his bookcase and handed it to her with a wry smile, "I think you came here to study. But… I never really wanted to help you with your studies. You don't need help anyway. Iruka never asked me to be your tutor. I've barely even spoken with him. The first day I met you, I'd already heard all of the rumours, how you were violent and angry and cruel. I saw you arguing with that guy and I wanted to help you. After you stopped being angry you just looked… resigned, like this was something you expected. Like people teasing you and you getting angry was all you could expect in life and I…" He took a deep breath, "I could relate to that feeling."

Sakura's expression flattened out completely, her mouth sagging into an unimpressed frown, her eyes staring at him blankly. He'd lied to her about the whole tutoring thing? …She'd memorised _musical terminology_ for him. Stuff she would never need to know as long she lived.

"I was the child who would collect insects," Gaara began, eyes on the ceiling, "And pull their legs off one by one. I was the child that bit anyone who dared touch him. I was the child who frightened adults. I was uncooperative, violent, fierce and above all else- angry. My father made sure I had every material need satisfied, but never actually seemed to care beyond that. He never came to see me. He was always so busy with his work. My mother had died giving birth to me, so all I had were my siblings, Kankuro and Temari. I don't get along with either of them that well, I guess. They were afraid of me. Do you know what it's like, to have people who're supposed to care about you look at you like you're a monster?"

"Yep." Sakura said simply.

"Then you know how I felt. Maybe I _was_ a monster back then, but I changed. My grandmother, she intervened. Had me come live with her here. That was… that was after my father was murdered… and people blamed me. Everyone knew we didn't get along and that I was violent. The fact that my own siblings were scared of me didn't help my case. Chiyo didn't believe it, obviously. She took me in. Gave me another chance. I didn't have to go to a school where everyone was talking about me and no one looked at me like I was a monster anymore. Then, I heard the rumours about you, and saw you that day and… I couldn't ignore you."

"Are we _sharing_?" Sakura asked, "Is that what we're doing here? Are you trying to make me blab about my private life?" She ran her fingers over the key over her chest as though to assure herself it was still there, "I'm sorry about your dad, and how people thought you did it. I get how much it sucks when people believe lies about you. But it wasn't like that for me. For me, they weren't lies. Pretty much everything the school blab about me is true."

Gaara's eyes widened.

"I broke my legs in a car crash," Sakura said, gripping her cane, "When I tried to commit suicide."

* * *

Yeeaaaah, super short chapter I know! I've got so much work to do I'm not going to be able to update at my normal rate, so I finished this WIP I had knocking around, gave it a bit of a polish and deemed it fit for public consumption XD I'm really sorry it's so damn short, best I can do right now!

**Trigger warning: **The next chapter will contain descriptions of depression and attempted suicide. I'll leave a recap at the start of the chapter after it so those of you who skipped won't be left in the dark :)

Sakura's past will come to light next chapter :D

Hinata has to make a speech! To a lot of people! In front of her father! With him judging her! Argh.

It actually pained me to write Naruto's texts, GOD HOW DO PEOPLE WRITE TEXTS LIKE THAT IN REAL LIFE, HOW?! Bad grammar is vile.

I hope you all had a great Christmas! :D

(Btw, please tell me someone actually reads the chapter titles and the quotes at the top XD Takes me ages to pick them!)

Have a Happy New Year or Hiroko will leave your inheritance to a cattery! A cattery!

**Quick poll for fun: **Would you ever have a tattoo? If so, what of?

No suggestions.


	11. I'm not afraid to take a stand!

Quotes:

Sakura: "Walk tall, or baby don't walk at all." ― Bruce Springsteen

Hinata: "I guessed life was like that. You gained and you lost, and if you saved anything from the ruins, even if only a shred of self-respect, it was enough to take you through the next bit." ― Dick Francis, Whip Hand

* * *

"When I was thirteen, I used to wait for my mother to finish her shift every week day. If I just sat there for half an hour after school, I could have a ride home instead of having to walk. I usually just read a book or something, but one time I heard a patient coughing in the room opposite me. The door wasn't closed completely, I could hear him choking. Nurses and doctors walked past and none of them stopped to help. I knew my mother would be pissed, but I still went in. What could I do? He was _choking_. It was a young guy, paler than I thought possible, with white hair and really green eyes. I hate to sound shallow, but he was really gorgeous too. I got him some water and helped him drink it. He seemed grateful. Told me his name, Kimimaro. I noticed he was handcuffed to the bed and I got a bit freaked out. Asked him why he wasn't being guarded or anything. He gave me a sad smile and sad he wasn't important or dangerous enough to be guarded. So I just felt sorry for him instead of afraid. After that, I visited him every day during that half an hour and we got close."

"Kimimaro was my best friend, you know? We talked about everything. He never judged me. He seemed to think I was cool. My mum didn't catch me talking to him for a whole year. Then one day she walks down the corridor and hears me talking, freaks out and drags me out of the room. I get a big lecture on talking to dangerous people and how I was never going to do it again. He was my _best friend_ at this point, so that was not an option. I was gonna see him again, I thought, and I'd see him whenever I wanted, not just in that one half an hour. It was pretty difficult, sneaking in to see him at odd hours, trying to avoid any of Mum's bitchy work friends catching me, but I did it anyway. That was the start of my rebellious years, I guess. I resented Mum for trying to keep me away. Kimimaro didn't have any friends. Not like me. I was pretty popular. I had friends, anyway. To him, our friendship was special. I didn't realise how special until he told me. He said he didn't have any reason to live except for the moments he spoke with me. Said they were literally the highlight of his life. That put a bit of pressure on me, you know, to keep him happy, because I didn't want him to die, of course. He told me that he really hated himself for being useless. He used to work for Orochimaru and he really loved him," Sakura smiled as she reminisced, "God, the long talks we had about him. He really saved him, when no one else cared. Kimimaro said he wanted to die because he couldn't be useful to Orochimaru anymore. I made him promise not to."

"You might have noticed I really thought a _lot_ of Kimimaro. I was a teenager, he was hot and said the coolest things, like 'your existence is a blessing to me, Sakura.' I had the biggest crush on him. It's embarrassing to think of it now, ha. Anyway, he didn't think of me like that. It hurt quite a bit at the time. I got over it."

"Anyway, one day I go to visit him and his bed's empty. I ask a nurse where he's gone and she looks at me impatiently, reading through a file and just sort of says in this flat, bored voice, 'oh him? He's dead. Died in the night.' I remember the words exactly. He was _dead_, my best friend…"

"I couldn't tell anyone. No one even knew that we were friends. I certainly couldn't go up to Mum and say the reason why I've been severely depressed lately is because I've been secretly visiting the criminal you explicitly forbade me from seeing for a long time now and he just died. So I had to bury it all inside. I was so angry at him. He promised me that he wouldn't die, he wouldn't leave me. He was the only adult in the whole world that talked to me seriously, that understood me and didn't patronise me and treat me like a kid. And he was gone. I really loved him and I couldn't understand that I would never see him again. After a while I stopped being angry at him and started being angry at the world."

"I drank and smoked and partied and did all sorts of boring bullshit. I guess it was fun at the time but I was just trying to forget everything, dull the pain with drink and somehow I could never feel numb enough. I got a bad reputation. My old friends couldn't understand why I changed. I wasn't living… I was just coasting by on angry music and chemicals."

"It got so bad that I took my dad's car in the middle of the night and drove it into a tree because I just wanted to see him again so badly. And I think I wanted my parents to know it wasn't just the usual teen angst crap, that I had real problems and I needed them. My dad took the blame for the crash and got fined heavily. I felt so guilty about that, like I needed to feel worse than I already did. I was in a wheelchair then and had – well, have – metal pins in my legs. Rumours went around in my school that I'd gotten drunk and crashed a stolen car by accident and just like that, the whole school thought I was Crazy Party Girl. So that kind of sucked too. And that's the story behind my cane."

Gaara sat gaping at her, his tea stone cold in his hand.

Sakura waited for him to recover patiently.

"I'm so sorry…" He said finally, still gaping, "But, Orochimaru? He's _evil_!"

"What?" Sakura's face screwed up, "What are you talking about?"

"He's… he's the man who killed my father!" Gaara said disbelievingly, "And you, you act like you worship him, I don't get it!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sakura stood up, grabbing her cane, "What the hell is your problem? I just… I just told you shit that _no one else knows_! And now you're making stuff up just to – just to – I can't even work out your angle! Orochimaru was like a father to Kimimaro!"

"He's a murderous, evil liar!" Gaara snapped, "My father was the heir to Orochimaru's rival business. Chiyo's business. Now that she was getting older, he killed him to try to destabilise the business, Chiyo moved me here to protect me because he named me his heir in his will! I don't even dare contact my brother and sister, I don't want them in danger, from _him_! How can you defend him? You've never even met him!"

"Fuck you!" Sakura shoved him back on his bed and pushed past his stupid guitar, not caring when it hit the ground with a dull thud.

xxxxxxxx

"Ino!" Sakura's voice trembled, "It's – it's a bad day. Call me when you get this? Please."

She burst through the door and into the snow, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, horrified at her own snivelling. She took a step, and then another, and slowly, painfully, walked away from the house, her cane slipping and skidding on the frosty ground.

xxxxxxxx

She got out of the taxi, stumbling onto the pavement, and paid the driver, who gave her a concerned look, "You OK there?"

"I'm alive." Sakura said, which seemed like the best reply. He looked confused.

She entered the building, clutching her cane with a shaking fist, the green wristband pulling taut against her skin.

xxxxxxxx

No one was there. The lab was completely abandoned. She had smashed the lock off the door and flicked on the light, breathing heavily, prepared to demand an explanation from someone, anyone, but…

She deflated, her rage deserting her. Her narrowed eyes fell on a few cabinets and drawers that might prove promising. She remembered Kabuto opening one of the filing cabinets and idly reading some papers from within.

She yanked one open, surprised at it being unlocked, and rifled through the papers.

It took half an hour before she found employee files, past and present. Kabuto was anything if efficient and she was certain the records would be both detailed and accurate.

Her hands froze in the middle of turning a page.

Kimimaro's gentle face smiled up at her.

Her mouth trembled.

She had no photos of him. She gently eased the picture from under the paperclip and slipped it into her pocket.

_Kaguya Kimimaro_, the file said.

"Your last name was Kaguya?" Sakura said slowly, taking it in. The urge to find out more, to learn what she had thought she would never know overcame her and she opened the file and began to read.

She began to absorb the information, her fingers drumming unconsciously on the page as she did so. Orochimaru had adopted Kimimaro, an orphan, a victim of war. He had raised him as his own.

Sakura smiled. She _knew _Gaara had been wrong about Orochimaru!

Her eyes strayed across the page and fell on 'job description.' _**Enforcer.**_

She frowned, automatically shaking her head. What was that supposed to mean?

She searched the box marked _additional details._

_Kimimaro answered only to Yakushi Kabuto and he, in turn, to Orochimaru himself. Kimimaro performed tasks directly ordered by Orochimaru. He occasionally was told to commit acts of violence and, as a result, was arrested for murder among other crimes. Kabuto had Kimimaro released to a private hospital owned by Orochimaru, on the grounds that it had recently been discovered that he was suffering from a terminal disease. He was discharged from his services when, upon visiting him in hospital, Orochimaru was informed he was dying and would no longer be capable of working. Shortly thereafter, Kimimaro passed away._

"What the _fuck_…" Sakura breathed out, eyes wide, her mind refusing to accept what she had read as truth.

Kimimaro was a murderer on Orochimaru's command.

She closed her eyes, her mind racing.

_Kimimaro had held her hand, a little smile on his pale, sweaty face. His thin chest was struggling for breath, each one a fight to achieve. His eyes were dim. The light had left them months back. He had dark circles beneath each green eye._

"_Sakura," He'd said, swallowing back the pain to speak, his white throat glistening with sweat. His hair stuck to his skin, "I-it's time, I know it."_

"_Shut up," She had glared at him, squeezing his hand, "What do you know? You aren't a doctor."_

"_Doctors," He laughed, wheezing, "don't know everything. But I know this. I can feel it."_

_Sakura's eyes welled up, "You can't die! What am I going to do without you?! Promise me! Promise me you won't die!"_

"_Everyone dies, Sakura. It's just my time."_

"_No! That's not fair! Promise me, please…" Her voice had broken as her throat tightened from the tears._

_He gazed at her, looking infinitely sad and tired. He somehow smiled again, his tiny, kind smile, and his fingers weakly brushed against her knuckles._

"_Alright. For you. I won't die, I promise."_

"You liar!" Sakura screamed, flinging the file at the wall, "You fucking knew you were dying!"

'…_it had recently been discovered that he was suffering from a terminal disease.'_

"You promised me!" She swiped at glass vials and boxes that littered one of the tables with an angry grunt, feeling the rage build in her chest until she could hardly stand it, needing to let it out.

She had said to Gaara, 'Kimimaro said he wanted to die because he couldn't be useful to Orochimaru anymore. I made him promise not to.'

The file said Orochimaru discharged Kimimaro after he visited him and found out he couldn't work anymore. Kimimaro had been convinced he was useless, had _wanted _to die…

"You bastard!" She kicked the table against the wall, treading on broken glass and not feeling the ache dissipate with violence as it usually did, in fact, it was getting _worse._

Orochimaru had visited Kimimaro and fired him. He was the reason Kimimaro had died like that, alone and without saying goodbye.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck… FUCK!" Sakura's fists pounded against the filing cabinet again and again, barely feeling the sting, the metal groaning beneath her fury, "You did this!" Her idol, the man she thought of as a friend, she wanted to work for him more than anything…

With a wordless cry, she kicked the cabinet away and then grabbed her leg, flinching at the angry pain that throbbed through it. She groped for her cane, turning.

Zaku stood next to her, holding her cane. His expression was complete disbelief.

"What the hell have you done?" He snarled.

"D-did," She panted, tears forming in her eyes from the pain, "did you know? About Orochimaru?"

Zaku gave a smirk. She shuddered.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Depends what you're talking about. Doesn't matter anyway. Kabuto's gonna be maaaaad…" He drew out the last word, his smirk sharpening maniacally.

"I'm guessing you're gonna be a liability." He sighed, offering her the cane, "Hey – sorry about this."

"About wha –"

The cane slammed against both of her shins with a sickening crack, her legs buckling immediately. She curled up on the ground, nauseating, unbearable pain eating away at her legs.

She sobbed like a child, wanting to hug her legs tight to herself but the thought of anything touching them made her want to vomit.

Zaku grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her into another room, each step bringing a choked cry from her lips.

He shut the door on her, leaving her in darkness. She looked up with difficulty, seeing his silhouette through the window.

"Sorry. Be a good girl and wait for Kabuto to come. He'll know what to do with you."

Then, he turned the key in the lock and walked away.

xxxxxxxx

After she'd thrown up messily and sobbed for a while, the pain slowly began to wane.

She managed to wrestle her phone from her pocket and found Gaara's number. She was breathing too quickly to speak, so she just texted him the best she could, telling him what had happened and where she was. She didn't know what he thought he could do, but, slumped on the floor and in pain, she just wanted someone to come save her.

"S-so much for feminism…" She muttered, her breathing steadying.

She pushed the call button clumsily, her only thought – _get help._

She looked at the little screen and realised it was Hinata she was calling. Of all the people –

Hinata answered the phone with an awkward little hum, clearly too nervous to say hello.

"Hinata?" Sakura breathed out, her voice hoarse and cracked. A tear slid down her cheekbone. Silence. "Please. Please help me. I, I've been hurt and my legs are g-going numb. I'm frightened. Please…"

She could hear Hinata's panicked wheezing, but then she said, very quietly, "Where are you?"

Sakura managed to rattle off the address. She tried to distract herself from her lower body, clutched the phone close to her ear, Hinata's voice sounding out clearly, "I'll c-come get you."

"No, I didn't mean that… Just, just call the police or something, please, I can't push anymore buttons to do it, m-my hands won't keep still…"

"…I can't call." Hinata said tersely. It sounded as though she was moving.

"Are you afraid?" Sakura asked.

There was a moment of tense silence.

"Always." Hinata replied.

"You can talk to me on the phone but not the police?"

"You. You're not a stranger." Hinata said every word separately in clipped bites, a pained gap between each one.

"There – there'll be at least two guys and they… they'll _hurt_ you if you come here."

"I'm not afraid of that." Hinata said softly.

Sakura paused, gripping the phone with her shaking fingers, the plastic slipping against her sweaty palms.

"I'm serious. Don't come." She bit out.

She heard the sound of a car door slamming, faint and in the distance, but still _there_ and asked Hinata, panicked, "Is there a car near you?"

"In one." Hinata said curtly, her voice thrumming with a quiet kind of strength.

Sakura relaxed, looking back up at the door just to check. No one seemed to be nearby.

Kimimaro's face came to mind and she let go of the phone, letting it rest next to her ear, and teased the photo out of her pocket. She held it up to her face with difficulty, trembling, and strained to see it in the darkness of the room.

Kimimaro.

She was crying again, loudly and wetly and she knew Hinata could hear by the way her breathing got louder.

"Sakura-san? Are you alright?"

"Heh… j-just call me Sakura. After this… we'll be friends for sure."

She refused to let herself think there might not be an 'after this.' The thought of this being it, this tiny dark room being the last thing she'd ever see… She clutched the photo, thinking that if she going to die, she would do everything she could to make sure she was looking at Kimimaro's face when it happened. For him to be the last thing she ever saw – a much more fitting end then the trunk of a tree smashing through a windscreen.

"…Are you alright?" Her voice was insistent.

"Dunno. But hey… look at you! You're talking so much better now… Well done, Hinata. That's great." She was genuinely happy for her, even as a sharp, sweet ache throbbed through her right leg.

Hinata's breathing grew quieter, like she was far away.

"I'm on my way."

xxxxxxxx

Hinata had stopped talking a while ago. Maybe Sakura just couldn't hear her anymore. Her phone fell from her nerveless fingers, clattering onto the floor. She dragged herself onto her front, pulling herself towards the door.

Then a key scraped in the lock and her stomach dropped. She scrambled backwards, her legs folding uselessly beneath her, her eyes fixed on the opening door –

Hinata entered the room, her face pale. The key was in the lock. She gave a soundless gasp at the sight of Sakura on the floor, but gave herself a shake and slid her hands around Sakura's arms, gently pulling up, an encouragement more than anything.

Sakura stood up, agonisingly slow, feeling as though her bones were splintering beneath her weight. She took a step and a gasp was punched out of her squarely, bile hitting the back of her throat. Oh, God, it was pure agony…

Hinata was at her elbow, casting frantic looks at the door and tugging her along. Sakura swallowed back the bile and ignored the excruciating pain, leaning heavily on Hinata. Zaku had taken her cane after he –

She swallowed again, her mouth suddenly dry, and she and Hinata made slow progress across the lab, out of that hateful dark room, passed the smashed vials and overturned tables and finally out – out into the hallway, beyond the lock she'd smashed and closer to home.

Hinata kept her eyes ahead, looking wary. She held Sakura very tightly as though afraid she would slip away.

Every inch out was a blessing, every step an answered prayer. Sakura let her eyes close, giving in to the pain but trusting Hinata to lead her free.

And then they were through the double doors. Sakura saw the street outside, the curb where her taxi had pulled up earlier that same day, everything unchanged by her ordeal. It was all so familiar…she could have wept.

They reached the steps, a black car parked up the street.

Hinata let go of her to point at the car, silently indicating something.

Sakura took a step, forgetting the loss of her cane, and had a moment of sheer pain and shock as she tried to put her weight down. She missed the step, and fell.

She fell down, tumbling and smacking off the steps, hearing Hinata's shocked gasp. Her necklace snapped.

xxxxxxxx

Sakura had looked like a little ragdoll as she fell, helpless, her expression a blur of pain until that awful sudden _slam_ – her body hit the pavement.

Hinata tore down the steps after her, her body moving on autopilot. Her driver hadn't seen the fall, there was no one else around…

She jumped the last few steps and threw herself at the ground, scraping her palms, landing next to Sakura's downed form.

A tiny pool of blood began to spread.

Hinata stared at Sakura's unconscious, scraped face and felt her throat squeeze shut.

_"Why was I cursed with such a useless daughter?!" _Her father's voice thundered in her head.

"_Why do you never speak up?" _Hiashi had snapped.

_"Hey, don't worry if you can't, Hinata-chan!" _Naruto had once said, his voice alarmed.

_"Hinata-chan finds social stuff difficult and making her do stuff won't help her at all, and blaming her is just stupid!"_

Sakura's eyes were closed.

Hinata's chest began to tighten. She clutched at it, sobbing for breath, thinking _no, not now please…_

_"It's OK, Hinata. I'm here. I'll help you out a bit."_

Sakura had been so kind, had calmed her down, held her hand…

Hinata sucked in a deep breath.

_I'm going to change. I will be better_, she had promised herself.

"_**HELP! HELP ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE!"**_

* * *

GUYS GUESS WHAT?! I'd already written Sakura's confession to Gaara ages back so I could keep referring to it when I wanted to foreshadow so I had that on file. I decided to stop doing homework for the day because, hell, it's New Year's Eve! So I wrote over 2,500 words in one go! :D The words just flowed!

I don't have much to say here except, lol wowzers quick update much?! And I thought this story wouldn't get a look in until late January…

Orochimaru being Gaara's father's killer isn't really a twist, since that's what happened in canon, but… pretty much everything else it XD This is the chapter I've been dying to write, so I hope it's good!

Nope, Sakura was not raped. The bed was a red herring, sorry! The bed she mentioned is the hospital bed she found empty after Kimimaro died.

(and no, Kimimaro was not a paedophile, don't worry. He and Sakura had a pretty strong bond but neither of them _did_ anything)

**Quick poll for fun: **What is your ultimate OTP? (One true pairing. Like a couple in a book, TV show, video game, any fandom at all, that you love more than any other)

I don't have one true pairing above all others, but I have one or two for every fandom I'm in, pretty much XD

Just started watching the Legend of Korra and I'm shipping Korra super hard with Bolin AND Tahno. Conflicted… It's weird because I was certain I'd like Mako and Korra as a couple, but it never really clicked for me :S Don't have anything against it, though :)


	12. I'm the only me in this world

Quotes:

Hinata: He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sakura: For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

**Previous chapter recap:** Sakura explains to Gaara about her past, how she met and befriended a man called Kimimaro and how he died. She explains her suicide attempt, but falls out with Gaara when he claims Orochimaru killed his father. Furious, she goes to the office and searches through the files. She finds information on Kimimaro and realises he was a killer. She becomes enraged and smashes up the office. Zaku catches her and hits her, locking her up. Sakura manages to call Hinata for help, who comes and saves Sakura, but at the last minute, Sakura falls down the stairs.

* * *

She became aware of soft material underneath her fingertips. She instinctively twitched them, breathing in deeply. Her mouth was dry and the back of her head was stabbed all over with little ice picks of pain. She turned her head, feeling cushioned and weightless.

She opened her eyes to the sight of her parents.

Her mother's head was resting on her father's chest, the both of them sleeping quietly on the chairs at Sakura's bedside. Her mother's hand was clenching a tissue. Even in his sleep, her father's face was lined with worry, a deep frowned etched between his brows.

Her mother was dressed in her work uniform, her shoes kicked off onto the floor, one of the rubber soles torn slightly.

A flicker of dark blue passed through her peripheral vision. She could see the blurred outlines of doctors and nurses moving behind the frosted glass of the window. Frosted glass. She was in a private room in her mother's hospital.

She could hear quiet murmuring outside the door, a male's firm authoritative tones battling with a woman's stern voice, before she cut herself off and the door opened.

Kabuto entered the room, putting his card back into his pocket as he did so. He looked startled upon seeing Sakura awake and even more so after caught sight of her sleeping parents.

Sakura was dismayed to find she didn't have the strength to throw anything at him and so had to settle for a truly poisonous glare.

To his credit, he actually looked baffled.

"Get. Out." Sakura gritted out between clenched teeth, feeling her legs flare up in pain.

"Is this a hormonal thing?" He whispered, looking amused.

"No, it's an _I want to fucking murder you_ thing." Sakura yelled out, both her parents awakening with a jolt.

"Sakura!" Her mother was already awake and fumbling around, her face twisted in anxiety before she saw Sakura in bed, awake and alive. She slumped back in her seat, her shaking hand covering her face. Her father had stood up automatically and now seemed to notice the stranger in the room.

"Who are you?" He asked, subtly placing himself between the man and his family, "Sakura isn't well enough for visitors right now."

Kabuto gave the two of them a pointed look, "And what are you –"

"My dad," Sakura said flatly, "And my mother, who happens to be a nurse. So we've established that they are well within their rights to visit me. What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

"Language." Her mother snapped.

"I heard you had an accident," Kabuto shifted uncomfortably, both parents drilling holes in his head with their glares, "I wanted to see that you were alright. I'm also well within my rights to be here, given that my boss owns this hospital."

He flashed his card again, offering it to Sakura's father, but her mother's hand flashed out and snatched it immediately. She examined it with a frown.

"Orochimaru. That's right. But how do you know my daughter?"

"And how did you know I had an accident?" Sakura sneered at him, amazed at his gall. Accident, when it was his lackey that caused it!

"I met Sakura here, of course," Kabuto gave a mild, inoffensive smile, "We got chatting. And seeing as Orochimaru-sama has plenty of his own people working in the hospital, I was told pretty quickly about your admission."

"Mum. Dad. I want a word with Kabuto in private." Sakura said firmly.

They argued, of course, but eventually left the room to obviously lurk nearby in case Sakura shrieked or sneezed or something. They'd both engaged their overprotective modes.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Sakura snarled at him, struggling to pull herself into a sitting position. He moved to help and she nearly bit him.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about." Kabuto replied, deadpan.

"I am in here because of _you!"_ Sakura said incredulously, "Zaku hit me and took away my cane – said he was going to get you and locked me in – a friend had to come get me and I fell down the stairs because I couldn't walk properly."

Kabuto froze.

"Zaku did _what_?" He asked, icily calm.

"I messed up the office and he – he –" Sakura stammered to a halt, shocked by the look of pure fury in his eyes, "He took my cane and he hit my legs – _what the hell!"_ She tried to twist away as he pulled back the covers to examine her legs.

"Bad touch!" She tried to smack him as he ran clinical, dispassionate eyes over the matching bruises on her shins.

He pulled the covers back and suddenly, gently, turned her head around to get a look at the back.

"You needed stitches." He said, still unnaturally calm.

He took out his phone and began to talk quietly into it, "Tayuya? Abumi Zaku. Yes. Thank you. Hm, as much as possible. No, slowly. Good. Thanks again."

"Is Tayuya an enforcer?" Sakura asked shrewdly, watching his back freeze again.

"Too clever for your own good." He sighed. He knelt down by her bed, ignoring her flinch, "I'll be honest with you. I shouldn't be here. I came here for you. It was unprofessional. But you can see – I don't wish you harm. I didn't know Zaku would go so far. I only asked them to keep an eye on you and to call me, should you become a liability. You are swiftly becoming too much of a problem for me to ignore," He looked her in the eyes, smiling sadly, "I told you what our company does is not legal. We are not a nice, safe happy place for you to work in. We are criminals –"

"Before you give me your villain speech," She interrupted, "Call Tayuya back and cancel the hit on Zaku."

He stared at her for a long moment before laughing, "You are full of surprises. He could have killed you!"

"Yeah," She shrugged, "But he didn't. He's a creepy little fucker but if you think I'm gonna sit here and let you kill someone than you're stupider than those glasses make you look."

Kabuto's chuckle evolved into a deep, throaty laugh.

He patted her head, "Please. Don't ever change."

He dialled Tayuya's number again.

"Yeah. Cancel that order. Oh really? That's fast work," He said approvingly, smiling. Sakura cleared her throat, glaring, "Sorry, my moral compass is complaining," Kabuto chuckled, not looking sorry at all, "It can't be helped. Just the arms, you say? That's enough. Doesn't matter. He's not the squealing type."

When he finished talking, Sakura was calm.

"Should I be expecting a visit from Tayuya anytime soon?"

"What part of 'I don't wish you harm' do you not understand?"

"'Don't'" Sakura quoted, her gaze steady.

"It's quite simple. I like you. Don't mess up and you'll be fine. Mess up and you won't."

"Well, how about this?" She leaned closer, "I quit."

"You can't." His smirk widened.

"Fuck you, you don't even pay me enough!"

"Of course I don't," He shook his head, "But I can up your pay if you like."

"I won't work with you. I don't want to be a scientist. I don't want to work for Orochimaru anymore."

"Oh? What brought this on?"

_Let's see if he remembers_, Sakura thought. She said clearly, enunciating perfectly, "Renal cell carcinoma,"

"Kidney cancer –" He replied automatically.

"Complications. Pneumonia."

"What? Sakura, I –"

"Ka-gu-ya!" She yelled in his face, "Kim-mi-ma-ro!"

Kabuto's face turned blank in shock.

"That's how he died. You _must_ remember. A poor little orphan boy that no one wanted. The kindly Orochimaru took him in and raised him as his own. The little orphan grew up to be a hitman. Until he got sick and was no longer considered useful. He died in this hospital." She wasn't surprised to find tears gathering in her eyes but continued to glare him, daring him not to remember, to not care, "He died alone."

"You… you met Kimimaro here?" Kabuto was recovering from his shock quickly, gathering the pieces of information together.

"He was my best friend," Sakura said coolly, "Then he died. I thought Orochimaru was the shit because of Kimimaro. I thought he must be _so_ kind. After Kimimaro died, I thought about looking him up. I actually daydreamed," She laughed through the tears, "about living with him, thinking how cool it would be. But I was wrong. I found Kimimaro's file. I found out what he really did. So I trashed the office. Zaku caught me. You know the rest."

"I _quit_." She said emphatically.

Kabuto was silent for quite a while after that, just standing at her bedside and staring at the wall. He finally seemed to come back to himself and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Do you know why Kimimaro was brought here when he fell ill in prison? Because Orochimaru arranged it. He has several friends in the medical business, you see. He has quite a bit of control over the hospitals in this area. Your mother works here, doesn't she? Do you think she'd find a job easily if she lost this one? Even if she was discharged for say, theft or endangerment of patients? What if she lost her licence to practice medicine? Do you think her career would ever recover?"

"I tell you all that," Sakura said quietly, "and you still threaten me. Do _you _know how I broke my legs? I tried to kill myself. I always thought it was the easy way out, you know, but it turns out when you've got to get in the car and ignore the seatbelt for once and turn the key in the ignition and every second feels like your last, it's not quite so easy? But I did it. I wanted to die. You don't wish me harm? I swear to you, threaten my family or anyone else I care about again, and I will kill myself. Hell, I might give Tayuya a call, seems like a fun gal! Does she give discounts to her fellow employees?"

Kabuto very deliberately put his hands either side of her head and leaned into her personal space, "And what makes you think I'd leave your family alone if you killed yourself? You don't think that would make me angrier? I'm impressed that you suggested it, though. Makes me think picking you was the best idea I ever had."

Sakura seethed, furious beyond words.

"I will drive you to work from now on. You'll work every hour I tell you to and you will do it with a smile. You'll also tell your admirably suspicious parents that I am a nice man. You don't _walk away_ from Orochimaru corp. What did you think would happen?"

"Oh, I dunno, that you wouldn't turn out to be insane maybe? What am I supposed to do about school?"

Kabuto gave an insouciant shrug, "You don't need it. I've seen your grades. You'll do fine even with absences."

"Oh?" Sakura said, desperately struggling for the upper hand, "You want to drive me to work yourself, you show up here when you hear I'm hurt, you've stalked my grades, sounds to me like you've got a crush!"

Kabuto's eyebrows flicked upwards.

He remained silent, his head cocked curiously.

"…You aren't denying it." Sakura said, thoroughly freaked out.

"I said I'd be honest with you from now on. Call me when you get out of hospital."

He turned to leave.

"Wait, I left my phone in the office!"

"Oh?" He gave a wicked smile, "Shall I bring it to you tomorrow?"

"Fuck no! Post it to me. I'm certain you know where I live by now, you fucking stalker."

Once again, Kabuto did not deny it, he merely chuckled and left the room, leaving Sakura feeling furious, panicked and completely drained.

Her parents demanded to know who he was. Sakura could only weakly respond, "A very nice man."

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Her driver had called the ambulance, in the end. He'd been disturbed beyond belief to hear Hinata's voice screaming, especially when he followed the sound to find she was holding an unconscious, bleeding girl.

The paramedics and the police wanted her to answer questions but her mouth wouldn't open. She was surrounded by flashing lights and strangers and it was all she could do not to faint.

At her written suggestion, the police had called three people. Her father and her grandmother did not respond. The last picked up immediately, the psychiatrist Sakura had recommended.

Her name was Tezuka Rin and she was calm and efficient. She sat at a desk with Hinata and quietly, competently coaxed answers from her. When Hinata finally managed to name Sakura, Rin had looked shocked. Then there had been a flurry of phone calls, harried looks and endless glasses of water placed in front of her.

Eventually Rin returned, her smile a little smaller now, her face white from stress or lack of sleep. She sat back at the other side of the table, still clad in her pyjamas, dressing-gown and slippers. She didn't seem embarrassed about her attire.

"So, you're the girl whose grandmother wanted to pay me for my services," Rin's smile was a little brighter now she was looking at Hinata, a little bit more compassionate, "I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. The police say you may go home now, if you wish, but I wondered if you might want a chat? Your father has been notified of your whereabouts, but it will take him an hour or so to get here."

Hinata could only nod, her mouth dry as paper.

"From what your grandmother told me, I believe you may have social anxiety disorder –" Rin broke off, bemused, as Hinata began nodding emphatically. That was exactly what Sakura had said. " – but I'd like you to come by my work sometime and fill out a questionnaire so we can really see how _you_ feel, OK? If it turns out that, as I suspect, your anxiety is severe enough to impact your life, I'll see if I can arrange some cognitive behavioural therapy. If we begin to see results with that, you probably won't need medication. If not, then we'll try a course of tablets mixed with CBT. The most important thing about anxiety is that it won't go away. Not unless you do something about it."

Rin's smile was encouraging now, "You start out small. You take a short walk with someone. You go down to the shop on your own. You catch a bus with a friend and then, when you're ready, try it alone. Take little steps forward and work your way up. Build your confidence and soon you'll be able to do things you would never even try before."

"The biggest –" Hinata began and then fell short when she accidentally made eye contact. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She gestured to her mouth, "p-problem is… speaking."

"I understand." Rin said. Hinata opened her eyes and saw the gentle expression of empathy, and believed that she truly did. "Speaking requires confidence in what one says. It's very difficult for people with no assurance of themselves."

"Have to, um, make a speech." Hinata swallowed, hard, a lump in her throat and a leaden weight in her stomach.

Rin's eyes narrowed, "When?"

"A month."

The older woman took a breath, considering, "How many people?"

"Lots."

"Can you do it?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you didn't say no," Rin gave a real smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "just remember this – no matter what the consequences, if you feel you aren't up to it, even if it's ten minutes before you're due to make the speech, you absolutely have the right to stop. Pushing yourself before you're ready will not help you. Only you know your limits, Hinata. If you do what frightens you, you will conquer your fear. If it helps, I believe you can do it."

Hinata was rendered speechless beyond her usual norm, incapable of even _thinking_ of a response. This woman, this stranger, believed in her. She trusted in her without knowing anything about her. The knowledge filled her core with a strange warmth, _someone believed in her._ And she thought of Naruto's bright smile and Sakura's trusting eyes, and she nodded once more.

_I can do it_, she thought with something like wonder.

xxxxxxxx

The next day she is at school and is swiftly accosted by Naruto.

"Hinata-chan!" He says her name like praise, beaming. Sasuke follows behind, unsmiling but not unfriendly.

"Naruto-kun." Hinata responds, realising in disbelief that she is not blushing, her voice did not tremble and she feels nothing to chastise herself for.

"What are you gonna do after school?" Naruto wiggles his eyebrows up and down merrily. Hinata laughs, feeling a pleasant thrill at the sound of it.

"Sakura is in hospital," Hinata said very carefully, watching his eyes widen at both her speech and what she was saying, "I am – I am going to visit her." One stumble. She didn't immediately rebuke herself for the minor failure as she normally would, by contrast, she felt her smile widen.

"Look at you!" Naruto exclaimed, not a hint of condescension in his voice, just pure pride, "Talking so easily! Knew you could do it. But did you say Sakura's in hospital? She's that angry girl, right? The one who called me a bonehead. You mind if I come with you?"

Hinata just smiled shyly, watching an answering smile blossom on his face. Sasuke rolled his eyes, unseen by both of them.

A redheaded boy suddenly steps forward near them all, drawing their attention immediately. Hinata thinks he looks like a punk with his bright red hair, tattoo and eyeliner. She eyes him with no small degree of wariness.

But when he speaks, he is surprisingly eloquent, "I'm sorry, did you say Sakura? Did you mean Haruno Sakura?"

He was looking at Hinata, but she felt herself shrink back from his unfamiliar gaze. Naruto came to her rescue.

"Yep! She had an accident. We're all gonna visit her in hospital later." Naruto said brightly. Sasuke opened his mouth as though to complain, then shut it without a word.

The redhead's jaw tightened, his frown deep and severe, "What kind of accident?"

"She fell." Was all Hinata could offer, but it seemed enough for the boy.

He shook his head bitterly, "This is my fault. I did this."

"You pushed her?!" Naruto's eyes grew comically wide in horror.

The boy looked at him with utter disdain, "_No._"

"Come with us." Hinata suggested, biting her lip when his pale eyes landed on her.

"…If you wouldn't mind," He nodded, "I'm Gaara, by the way."

"I'm Naruto!"

"H-Hinata."

"Hn."

"Oh and that's Sasuke-bastard."

"_Naruto._"

"No, that's my name."

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Sakura is asleep when they arrive, her eyes bruise-black from tiredness, her face as pale as the pillows surrounding her. There is an expensive-looking cane resting against the wall in the corner, made from black beech wood, the handle silver-plated with a beautifully engraved leaf pattern.

Hinata examined the label that was attached to the handle. _To replace what was lost, K. X_

Of course, Sakura's cane had been stolen… Hinata swallowed at the memory of that horrible, dark night.

Sakura's parents had been in before them, but had allowed them in on the condition of being very quiet until she awoke on her own. Rest was very important for her recovery at this stage, her mother had said.

Gaara sat down next to Sakura's bedside, looking ten years older with the weight of his guilt and grief. Hinata knew he blamed himself unfairly and planned to relieve him of his fears.

Luckily, Naruto and Sasuke quickly grew uncomfortable, having only met Sakura once, and hastily suggested they go eat in the canteen, leaving Hinata alone with Gaara and the sleeping Sakura.

"Why do you blame yourself?" Hinata asked very softly, keeping her eyes on Gaara's knee, not quite yet capable of making eye contact.

"I upset her greatly that day. She did this because of me." He stared at Sakura's unconscious face for a while, then buried his own in his hands.

Hinata shook her head, "No, it was an accident. I was there."

Gaara's head snapped up, "What. Happened." He demanded.

So she told him. Her voice often wavering, she had to stop many times until she regain herself, but she told him everything that she knew, the events of that night. She told him of receiving a call from Sakura out of the blue, of being nervous but answering it regardless, then of the dawning horror she had felt at hearing the other girl's cries and how helpless she had felt, never so acutely aware of her own powerlessness until that moment. She told him of how she managed to rouse her family driver, direct him towards the car and program the address Sakura had named into the GPS. She told him of how the building had seemed nondescript, anonymous, yet her throat had squeezed at the sight of it. She told him of finding Sakura on the floor, in pain and afraid. She told him of every painful step until they were outside and then, just when it seemed as though Hinata had accomplished something, Sakura fell.

Throughout the story, Gaara's expression had warred between emotions, horror, distress, anger, shock and finally rage had won out and he stood up, growling, "Who did this to her?"

"Oh settle down, Tarzan, go comb your dreadlocks or commune with your animal buddies," Sakura's scratchy, hoarse voice suddenly sounded out. Hinata and Gaara both jumped, "Jane is just fine. It's just a bump on the head. And _you_ left out the many, many times in which I nearly wet myself that night." She winked at Hinata, who flushed.

"_Just a_ –" Gaara cut himself off, looking incredulous, "Sakura, what the hell were you doing in that building in the first place?"

"It's my secret evil lair. I was planning world domination. That's code for 'mind your own fucking business."

Gaara looked furious. Sakura pulled herself into a sitting position and then her eyes fell upon the cane. She looked uneasy, "Could one of you grab that for me, maybe?"

For all his looks of annoyance, Gaara still nearly killed himself getting to the cane first just so he could be the one to give it Sakura. Hinata surrendered the claim with bemused ease.

Gaara read the label and frowned before passing it to Sakura, who did the same. She gave an emphatic groan and dropped her head back on the pillow.

"Who's it from?" Gaara asked.

"Secret admirer." Sakura replied, looking exhausted.

Gaara looked furious again.

"Are you alright, Sakura?" Hinata spoke up, not allowing herself to blush as they both gazed at her.

"Hmm? Me? I'm dandy. What about you?"

Hinata told her about Rin's offer, how they were going to get the bus together and have a day out, see what Hinata could manage.

Sakura made a sour face, "Oh God, her. You poor little dear. Don't let her bully you."

Hinata was surprised, "She seemed very nice to me."

Sakura eyed her grimly, "Seemed, Hinata. Beneath that professional exterior lies pure evil. Beware."

The room's awkward silence that had remained between every word since they had arrived was broken by Gaara's sudden, genuine laughter.

Sakura gave him a look of pleased surprise, and he in return gave her a fond smile and somewhere in Hinata's mind a lightbulb came on and she thought, _oh._ And it didn't matter that Sakura had looked so very tired before, that the stitches in her head had caused Gaara's eyes to narrow in anger and concern, or even that there were bad men somewhere out there who had hurt Sakura, because in that moment, they were completely and uncomplicatedly happy.

xxxxxxxx

**Thought No 116**

I'm alive and that in itself seems like a blessing.

* * *

Lock up your kids cause Kabuto's roaming the streets! Such a creepy dude.

Is it advisable to call hitmen up in front of workers? Nope. Does Kabuto have any fucks to give? Also nope.

Hinata is getting better! ~~

Hope you guys liked this chapter! :D

**Quick poll for fun: **What is the best meal you have ever eaten?

No suggestions.


	13. I will survive, I will endure

Quotes:

Sakura: "There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore." ― Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls

Hinata: "Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy." ― Norman Vincent Peale

Mentions of suicide and self-harming in this chapter.

* * *

"You are such an idiot, Sakura!" Ino burst out, sniffing loudly, "You make me so worried about you but I feel so helpless because you won't talk to me! You didn't even call me to say you were in hospital! Your mother had to call me –"

"Hey, hey, Ino. Calm down," Sakura gave a lopsided smile, hoping to ease the tension in her best friend's shoulders. It didn't work, she just glared back, "I lost my phone in the accident, OK? I would have called."

Ino's face scrunched up in her attempt to hold back tears, "Please don't do this to me again."

"Huh?"

"Please don't. I can't take it anymore," Ino finally let out a cry, scrubbing her face with her sleeves, "Please don't try to kill yourself again!"

"What? Ino, I –"

"The first time – " Ino broke off with a sob, having to focus on breathing through the tears for a minute, her whole body trembling with unrestrained emotion, " – the first time, my mum woke me up in the morning, really early, and she looked really serious. She had the phone in her hand and she was still in her pyjamas. She gave me a glass of water, sat down next to me and said, 'Sakura-chan was in a car crash in the night. She's in the hospital now. They don't know if she'll make it yet'."

Ino always cried like a child, her whole face red and screwed up, her mouth wide open. Sakura stared in shock as her friend broke down in front of her.

"I thought you were gonna die," Ino wept, "And I didn't believe for a second that it was an accident. You'd been weird for ages, always talking about death and how horrible the world was and I just… I knew. I thought maybe it was my fault, I should have told your parents or something. But you didn't die. You had to have all that physical therapy and stuff and you – you were in a wheelchair for a while, but you didn't die. But ever since then I've been scared of losing you! I've been so scared you'll try again!"

"Ino." Sakura stretched her arm across the bed, taking Ino's hand in hers. When she spoke, her voice sounded solemn, "I won't ever do that again. This fall was genuinely an accident. I don't want to die anymore," as she said the words, she felt a deep certainty that they were true, to her surprise. She hadn't noticed the change within her, "I've been really selfish, haven't I? I haven't considered your feelings at all. I've just been using you for support, I never realised you needed me too. When I did what I did, I wasn't thinking about all the people who would be hurt from it. I was just searching for an end. Then, after I failed, I noticed how deeply affected my parents were, and I knew I could never go through with it again. I never noticed how you affected you were too. I never realised you needed an explanation, or my reassurance."

"So, here it is. I had a very good friend when I was thirteen. We were friends in secret. He was a patient here in the hospital. I knew him for about a year. One day I came to see him, only to find out he'd died. I… I was in such pain after that, Ino. I just wanted to see him again. But this year, I've realised I kinda like my life. My parents are awesome. I don't have to be in a wheelchair anymore. My grades are pretty good. I've made some new friends. And I've got the coolest, most awesome, kindest best friend in the entire world, so I figure I'm pretty damn lucky."

Ino smiled, squeezing her hand back, her cheeks glistening. "OK, but don't scare me like that again, OK?"

"I won't."

xxxxxxxx

After proving she wasn't concussed and had the ability to walk in a straight line, the doctor had to let her go home, despite her mother's obvious disapproval. Sakura knew exactly what fuelled her mother's worry. She had made similar assumptions to Ino's, that Sakura's fall hadn't been accidental, but unlike Ino, Sakura knew her mother could not be persuaded otherwise.

Then again, Ino was not the one who had found her in a wrecked car.

"You didn't leave a note," Her mother had said the first time, when Sakura was awake and kept tasting blood in her mouth and ached everywhere. Her gaze had been steady and accusing, "You were going to leave without giving us a reason. No closure. Can you understand what that would have done to us?"

Sakura hadn't cared at the time. All she could think about, cooped up in that bed, was getting something sharp to release the bubbling pressure of emotion from under her skin. Self-harming wasn't something she did often, just on the occasions where feeling emotion was too much. Feeling pain instead was a relief.

Now she felt a little drained, exhausted and worried, but she had absolutely no desire to return to a hospital bed in the near future, which was a definitely plus.

"I feel gross," Sakura said, now in the back of a taxi. Her mother turned and gave her one of her patented Mum™ looks, the one that said she wasn't in the mood for any foolishness, "I really need a shower."

"You'll have your shower and then you have to tidy your room, OK?" Her mother said, watching her husband walk around the car to put Sakura's overnight bag in the boot.

Sakura gave a teenager-style sigh, fighting back a grin. It felt normal. The conversation didn't have an undercurrent of care – neither of her parents were treating her like a fragile doll and even Ino had started to talk to her about inane, ordinary topics instead of skirting around what she feared inflammatory for Sakura.

I am not a problem child, Sakura observed. I am not a statistic.

"I swear my room breeds mess when I'm not looking." Sakura muttered.

"I think it's more likely to be your habit of using your floor to store your belongings. By the way, where did you get that cane, darling? It looks very expensive."

Sakura gave Kabuto's gift a filthy look.

"It's just something Kabuto gave me. I guess he can throw money around." Sakura grumbled. Her family was pretty wealthy, but despite what the other students (Kiba) seemed to think, they didn't believe in spoiling their only daughter.

"That was nice of him," Her mother said measuredly, "considering you haven't known him very long."

That wasn't terribly subtle, Sakura thought. Her mother was usually much better at teasing information out of her.

"Hmm." Sakura said noncommittally.

Her father entered the taxi, killing the conversation.

After ten minutes driving in silence, Sakura spoke up.

"You know, we don't have to take taxis all the time," She said, faux-casual, "Dad can drive us in his car."

The taxi driver's eyebrows quirked up at that, but Sakura saw her mother hide a smile.

Since the near-death experience, Sakura had frequently rebuffed invitations outside if it would involve getting into her father's car. It was the car she nearly died in, the car her father spent a fortune to get fixed because of her, and she never wanted to sit in it again. Her parents had made a point of getting taxis everywhere since then in order to tempt Sakura into socialising.

Sakura imagined getting into the car – a memory of the windscreen warping in an ear-splitting crash overcame her – but she shook it off, staring out of the window. Her fingers gripped each other in her lap, trembling slightly, but she wasn't going to back down now.

xxxxxxxx

The next couple of days were filled with texts from Gaara, Ino and Hinata, the occasional phone call and a long marathon of The Big Bang Theory on DVD. Sakura slowly started the long process of redecorating her room, taking down posters and looking up wallpapers online. She even started some of her homework early, just the basic outline of a few essays and some notes. She was beginning to feel that familiar itch of yearning to learn. She'd received her phone back in the post, managing to retrieve the package without either of her parents noticing.

On the day she was due back at school, Sakura was not nervous at all.

She was anticipating banter with Gaara, getting to know Hinata and probably some heavy-duty grovelling for Ino, that wonderful feeling of knowing you knew more on the subject your teacher was lecturing you on than they did and most of all, the strange, foreign sensation of being outside her room.

"I've give you a lift." Her father said when she announced her intentions to get to school early. Sakura saw her parents exchange looks when she didn't argue.

"Don't forget to take your pills," Her mother said, pressing the various boxes on her, hands still wet from washing the dishes, "You'll have a –"

"Already taken them." Sakura said cheerfully, pointing at the holes in the foil, "C'mon Dad, if I don't get to school soon the peons will get there first."

She stuffed some toast into her mouth, patted her mother on the head (ignoring her annoyed, "Sakura!"), grabbed her cane and swooped out of the door.

"What the hell did they give you at that hospital?" Her father asked warily as he slid into the driver's seat, "Are you high right now?"

"High on life, Daddy, high on life." Sakura said dryly, spinning her cane between her knees.

"Well… come down a notch," He said, "I feel like I'm one of those fathers backstage at a toddler pageant."

"There is no pleasing you two." Sakura said, unimpressed. They didn't like her when she was unhappy and now they didn't –

But her father was ducking his head bashfully, his grin wide enough to split his face.

"It's made my day." He said sincerely.

Sakura's chest tightened.

xxxxxxxx

Kiba was standing next to her locker.

Sakura managed not to roll her eyes _too_ hard, and limped over to him, her cane still strange and unfamiliar to the touch.

He saw her coming and frowned.

"Hi," She said when she got close enough, a practised smile glued to her face, "Have I been an almighty bitch to you?"

He made a face, mouth contorting like he didn't know how to respond. "…Lately?" He asked finally.

"Ever."

"Well, uh. Yeah. You have. To everyone."

Sakura took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, her gaze was determined.

"I'm sorry." She said honestly, "I know over the past couple of years I've treated you like shit. I don't really have any explanations, but you should know it was never about you. I was… I was being a bully. I thought I was smarter than everyone, better, even, and that I was above all of this. Recent events have enlightened me otherwise. I've had a rough time and it made me rough in turn. I'm sorry."

Kiba stared at her, not blinking for a couple of seconds.

"Who are you and what have you done with Haruno Sakura?" He laughed, not unkindly.

"I'm the new and improved version," Sakura mimed punching him lightly, "I'm far less violent and much more conducive to easy-going banter. Would you like to be friends?"

He laughed again, incredulous, and leaned against the locker with a toothy grin, "Are you going to be working your way around the school asking that same question after you've prepped them with that same speech?"

"Er, yeah, probably."

"You should work on your spontaneity," He advised, "But sure. Let's be friends."

xxxxxxxx

"You are probably wondering why I called you in today." Iruka said, smiling that familiar smile of his. It was a particularly comforting brand of Teacher Smile, one that students felt heartened to witness. Sakura was usually bestowed with a disappointed grimace, specifically: Come On Now, Put That Young Man Down or the clenched teeth, You Aren't In Too Much Trouble Yet, But You Will Be Soon If You Carry On Like This, Missy.

"Not really," Sakura smiled a smile of her own, "My mother called you."

"Ah, yes, I didn't know you knew about that."

"Well she didn't _tell_ me. It was obvious."

"Oh. Oh right. Well, at any rate, she told me what happened the other day and… naturally I'm very concerned."

"Don't be," Sakura said abruptly, softening it with another smile, "It was actually an accident this time. Though you didn't hear that because I've just remembered the car crash was technically supposed to be an accident too, shit. Alright, the first time was on purpose, the second wasn't -"

"Sakura," Iruka's gentle voice cut through her babbling, "may I ask, are you suicidal?"

Sakura swallowed her words and, for some reason, felt a bit sick. This was Iruka, kindly, no-nonsense Iruka who marked everyone's homework with smiley faces and big ticks… It felt _wrong_ to be discussing this with him. Why did talking about it all make her feel so sullied?

"No, I'm not."

"Have you ever been suicidal?" Iruka asked softly.

Sakura squirmed in her seat. Her gaze crawled everywhere but her teacher's face.

"Yes," She said finally, the word sounding oddly choked, "I was. Not anymore."

Iruka was silent for a while. Sakura sat in her own silence, feeling smothered by it. She kept wanting to blurt out excuses, reasons, rationalisations. She didn't want Iruka to draw his own conclusions, to believe some of the ridiculous lies the other students came up with.

"Do you feel like you have a solid support network?" Iruka asked, his fingertips forming a thoughtful steeple.

Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, it wasn't that.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you feel like there are people you can talk to about your problems? Private things?"

"Yes, of course." She said, thinking of Ino, Gaara. Maybe even Hinata, a little further down the line.

"And if things ever got bad again, do you think you would go to them for help?"

She nodded.

Iruka smiled again, this time it was an unfamiliar, genuine smile, "That's good."

"I see this woman, sometimes," Sakura mumbled, "She's like a psychiatrist or whatever. She's pretty good. And I was thinking, I want to start some extracurricular work. I want to start studying medicine early before I leave school."

Iruka practically beamed, "That's brilliant! I'm so glad. It seems as though you're on the right track. I've noticed your grades growing steadily since you've returned. And you've got colour back in your cheeks! Did you know the nurse wanted to pin you down and force-feed you pain meds? She said you looked like you were fresh out of a torture chamber. And Kakashi-san was _very_ worried about you on your first day back. But now, you seem a lot better, if you don't mind me saying. I remember Haruno Sakura at eleven years old, so eager to learn and so cheerful."

Iruka patted her shoulder, "I think you remind me of her."

xxxxxxxx

There were small patches of grass in what was technically a playground but never referred to as such. These patches of grass were usually claimed by the eldest students, the ones with rolled up sleeves and tattoos of anchors on their feet.

It was a fairly dry day. The sun had soaked up all moisture and was now beating down upon them mercilessly, so most students were clamouring to sit on the grass and bathe in the rare warmth during their free time.

One of these students was Hyuuga Neji.

He sat with his nose in a large, leather bound book with a picture of an organ on the front. It was a beautifully expensive tome that looked to be in pristine condition. The pages were literally gold in colour.

"That seems more decorative than practical." Sakura remarked, sitting down next to him on the grass after an awkward shuffle with her cane in which he hadn't taken his eyes of the page, even when she nearly smacked herself in the face by accident.

"It's from 1995," He said, still not looking up, "It's description of anatomy is not entirely accurate, but I'd like an account of all eras of medicinal knowledge."

"Then get a TARDIS and spend a thousand years reading books like that one," Sakura said tartly, "Are you sure you want to be a doctor? Seems like you're more interested in the study, as opposed to the practice."

Neji gave a sigh, marking his place with the ribbon that came attached to the book, "This is a point of contention for myself and my uncle. I am fascinated by the human body –" He ignored her leer, "- and I would like to devote years of study to learn as much about it as possible. But my uncle thinks I should become a surgeon."

"Well, you've got years to figure it out," Sakura said mildly, "I know what I'm going to be, though."

"You've mentioned before, you want to be a research scientist of some sort." Neji replied.

Sakura shrugged, "I've decided on my specialisation. I'm going to be an oncologist."

Neji gave her a sideways look, "Interesting. What made you decide on that particular branch?"

Sakura held up her wrist, showing him the band that declared _hope, faith, courage, strength._

Neji's expression cleared in understanding, and he nodded his approval, "It's a good fit for you."

xxxxxxxx

It was a strange novelty, having friends who were not Ino.

"After what you told me…" Gaara closed his eyes, tipping his head back to rest against the brick wall, "I have been concerned that you might one day… try to commit suicide again."

Sakura sighed, "I should never have told you so casually. I don't know what I was thinking. You shouldn't worry, though. I won't do that… I couldn't… not after seeing my parents' reaction. At the time, I felt like no one really even liked me and that they'd be better off without me. I was at that slamming door teen rebellion stage and I didn't get on with my parents, so I thought they wouldn't miss me. But, now, I know better. My dad pulled me out of the car. My mum kept me alive until the ambulance got there. I woke up to their faces, their tears, in hospital, alive because of them. It was like the ultimate proof that they cared. But… God, I wish I hadn't done it. It wasn't worth it. You shouldn't test people's affection for you, not like that. The pain I caused everyone… Ino… It wasn't worth it. I'd never do it again, no matter how bad things got."

Gaara said slowly, "Life's worth sticking around for. I have always had a strange habit of noting the good things in my day, or week, or so on, like learning a new song on my guitar or having a lie-in. Maybe that's something you should try? I know people who feel depressed often can't see past the bad things in life… so you should focus on the good things instead. Perhaps you could make a list of all of the things you feel you couldn't live without. I've done that before, as an exercise at school as a child. It was supposed to make you feel grateful. I believe it worked for me."

Sakura gave a little laugh, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and then, with a flourish, a broken eyeliner. She twirled her finger at him, indicating he should turn around. He complied, looking bemused.

Sakura began to write down her favourite things.

_Rainy days,_ she wrote. Not because of any sentimental reason like the sound or poetry of it, she just liked how grumpy everyone got when it rained. It didn't affect her the same way, so it was pretty amusing to watch her parents suddenly morph into The Addams Family, grunting at each other with matching scowls, just because of a bit of drizzle.

_Learning new things, _she liked the feeling of getting smarter. It was like her brain was swelling. With knowledge, not some underlying medical issue. She hoped she really hadn't gotten concussed in the accident, though she figured the nurses would have mentioned that.

_**Coffee**_, she wrote emphatically, she loved it! The bitter taste first thing in the morning, the sour aftertaste, the way caffeine seemed to leap through her veins after she drank it!

_Making people angry,_ she loved watching people's face grow red with anger, their little faces scowling away, and especially the way they became all incoherent, spluttering impotently, making it all too easy for her to make a witty comment and then walk away.

_Making people happy_, it didn't happen as often, but the sight of someone smiling because something she had said or did gave her warm, fuzzy feelings.

_Music,_ whether it was angry, thrashing songs that made her want to roar swear words into the wind, or slow, mournful ballads, she loved music in every form.

_Being a sassy bitch_, there was nothing quite like the armour of wit. It protected her from every jeer, every scornful look. Having the ability to snap a cutting retort was underrated.

_Feeling like my old self_, the days when she felt halfway normal were the best. The days where she did something kind for someone for no reason at all, or passed up the chance to say something mean to someone who didn't deserve it. Those days she was Haruno Sakura, not the sad, angry stranger that had overtaken her.

_New friends, _Hinata and Gaara had been unexpected but welcome interruptions in her life. Hinata had saved her and Gaara had listened.

_Being alive, _for the first time in a long time, being alive felt like a good thing.

xxxxxxxx

Tezuka Rin walked down the street calmly, hands in her pockets. Hinata kept close to her, jittery with nerves.

"What's your rating?" Rin asked casually as they stepped into the bus shelter.

Rin had devised a way for Hinata to quickly convey her fear level whilst in public: score it out of ten.

"Seven." Hinata squeaked, her palm damp and unpleasantly warm.

"That's quite high for a trip to your local mall," Rin observed, "But it'll go down the more you do it. Soon it'll seem like every day, monotonous activity, like brushing your teeth."

Hinata nodded determinedly. It was like having a fitness trainer. Rin was consistently calm, unflappable and knowledgeable on all things. She was able to sense when Hinata's willpower began to wane, and was very good at raising her mood.

She frequently employed distraction techniques; they forced Hinata to stop focusing on her fears and grow more used to speaking in front of her.

"Favourite colour," Rin drawled, "Mine is beige."

"Coral." Hinata replied, her finger tracing the worn edges of an advertisement glued to the shelter's window.

"Good choice. Movie?"

"Jumanji."

"Hinata?"

She turned around to see Gaara, Sakura's friend.

He stood in the entrance of the shelter, a plastic bag dangling from his elbow. He levelled her with a quizzical look.

_Hello._ The word stuck in her throat.

"That is your name, right?" He looked uncertain.

"Hi!" Rin said suddenly, grabbing Gaara's hand and shaking it enthusiastically, "I'm Rin. How do you know Hinata?"

Gaara seemed to relax at that, "Oh, from –"

He broke off, staring into the road.

"Excuse me." He muttered, walking past Rin to peer through the other side of the shelter.

"What's wrong?" Rin asked, sounding concerned.

Hinata glanced in the direction he was peering, and saw Sakura gesticulating furiously at an older man with long, silver hair and glasses. The two of them stood either side of a car. Hinata looked back at Gaara, unsure of the situation. A muscle was leaping in his clenched jaw.

"Is that Haruno Sakura?" Rin frowned.

"And Yakushi Kabuto." Gaara said darkly.

"Who?"

"Someone," Gaara began to stride towards the car, "Sakura should _not_ get into a car with."

* * *

MASSIVE GAP BETWEEN CHAPTERS I AM SO SORRY

This chapter is more like a series of snapshots of Sakura's recovery, I guess. It isn't very detailed and it's quite sporadic, but it works, I think.

The next few chapters should be quite dialogue-heavy and will probably have me having too much fun XD

In case any of you were confused, an oncologist is a cancer-specialist, basically. Sakura previously displayed a contempt for doctors and nurses, wanting to enter the experimental field of science instead of practising medicine, but a shift in her character has persuaded her otherwise.

I'm so looking forward to writing the opening scene of the next chapter, you have no idea.

Anywho, as I've been rambling on about in every other story I've written,** if you want to** **write me letters, PM me and I will give you the address** :) Please don't send me money or sharp implements XD

Christ alive it's nearly 2AM, someone tranquillise me PLEASE

Because I wrote nearly all of this whilst sleep-deprived I will hereby assume it is terrible, panic in the morning and presumably spend hours going over every little detail. Ah, to be anal.

**Quick poll for fun: **What do you do to cheer yourself up when you're down? (I, for example, watch a lot of Danisnotonfire videos and rock back and forth like a crazy person)

No suggestions.


	14. I take a bow and thank you all

Quotes:

Sakura: "Self-esteem is as important to our well-being as legs are to a table. It is essential for physical and mental health and for happiness". ~ _Louise Hart_

Hinata: "We each appear to hold within ourselves a range of divergent views as to our native qualities.. And amid such uncertainty, we typically turn to the wider world to settle the question of our significance.. we seem beholden to affections of others to endure ourselves." ― _Alain de Botton, Status Anxiety_

* * *

"Why do you have to drive me?" Sakura yelled, kicking at the kerb in frustration. She ignored the resulting sting, "My dad can do it, or I can get the bus!"

"And deny me your company?" Kabuto's eyes glittered in enjoyment. He seemed to genuinely find their arguments fun.

"I don't – I don't get you." Sakura's annoyance was diminished by Kabuto's strangely sincere smile, "I don't get what you want from me. I'm just some kid with a screwed up limp and head, I know exactly how tiny and insignificant my existence is in the universe, blah blah, so why the hell do you _need_ me? I don't contribute _anything_ to Orochimaru's fucked up empire. I don't have any specialised, rare skills. I'm not even blindly obedient anymore. So, why?"

Kabuto moved around the parked car as another came racing down the street. He stood, staring at the back of the vehicle with some distaste as it zoomed away. He brushed his trousers down unhurriedly, the sun reflecting off the lenses in his glasses as he did so. He straightened up and joined her on the pavement, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. The movement did not appear to be intentional or calculated, but impulsive.

"Why don't you recognise your own value, Sakura?" Kabuto asked. An angry retort died in Sakura's throat at the earnestness of his gaze, "Why are you so quick to dismiss your worth? You made a stab in the dark that struck true in that hospital room. I have found myself awash with sentiment as of late. I find your quick wit charming, your defensive insults amusing. Everything from the bright look of anger in your eyes to the rare pleasure of your smile appeals to me. You have one of the keenest minds of any young person I have ever met. You have genuine potential in this field. Whilst it is true that I am perhaps biased by my affection for you, you should know that I _do_ consider you intelligent and I _do_ believe you would do well in Orochimaru-sama's company."

Sakura could feel herself blinking more rapidly throughout his speech, her mind growing blanker in shock. She felt almost timid in her surprise, the notion that someone considered her not just worthy of praise, but affection, sentiment, made her feel very strange.

She said quietly, "I'm not anything special."

His eyes narrowed, "I called you valuable, not special. Valuable is much better. It means you have worth."

"I'm not a purchase, Kabuto!" Sakura said bitterly.

"I never said you were."

"It doesn't matter anyway. You can call me all the sweet names you like, compliment me in every single way and it won't change the fact that you are _blackmailing me!_ There's nothing – I don't know… _romantic_ about what you're doing! I wouldn't be here right now if you weren't forcing me, so can you please quit the affable friend shtick you've got going on? I don't need to hear how valuable I am from you. There's no need to pretend to be nice anymore, I already get that you're a soulless bastard with assassins on speed dial, so just stop acting otherwise!"

"Sakura."

If it had simply been Kabuto's smooth, oily tones drawling her name, she wouldn't have snapped bolt upright and widened her eyes to the point of pain. Because, of course, the voice was Gaara, she freaked out.

"Shit!" She reflexively tried to move away from the noise, tripping over the kerb and into Kabuto's arms, which tightened upon contact.

Gaara stood, his arms crossed, his mildly irritated expression morphing into something far more severe and judging.

"Well, um, this is awkward," Sakura, who had no filter for her speech, said stupidly, "And inconveniently timed."

Kabuto's arms remained tightly secure around her, despite the fact that the normal length of time society dictated was suitable to continue to hold onto someone after catching them was certainly not _well over a minute,_ for God's sake.

Tezuka and Hinata stood behind Gaara, as if the day could not get any weirder, both of them looking politely confused.

"Let go of her." Gaara said mildly, his voice very even and calm despite the thunderous look on his face.

"Boyfriend?" Kabuto murmured in her ear.

"None of your business," Sakura replied crisply, "Gaara, what are you doing here?"

"I _was_ passing through, then I bumped into Hinata and _then _I saw you and Yakushi Kabuto together," Gaara said flatly, "I didn't think I should leave without informing you that he works for a psychopath."

"What? Oh I know all of that," Sakura said dismissively, "You told me, he told me in somewhat more vague and patronising words, I got the big, murderous memo."

"Then why," Gaara paused delicately, his fingers twitching violently, "are you with him now?"

"Sakura, get in the car." Kabuto said quietly, "I don't think your friend would appreciate knowing you work for me."

Sakura imagined the explosion that would ensue and winced. There was still a part of her that rebelled at the idea of complying with his wishes, of getting into a car with a man she knew to be dangerous. Then there was the much larger part of her that thought of her mother, of the job she loved and the hard work she put in. How easily Kabuto could destroy it all.

She climbed onto the backseat, shutting the door behind her without watching for their reactions. She heard Gaara snapping her name with what sounded like genuine worry. She winced again.

Hinata watched the scene unfold with worry and a complete lack of comprehension. Gaara had seen Sakura with an older man and had clearly been very angry about something. Hinata had assumed it to be mere jealousy upon seeing Sakura embracing someone else, but the atmosphere had suddenly grown tense and, with a single quiet command from the unknown male, Sakura meekly got into the car.

Rin took a few strides forward, coming to stand next to Gaara. She glanced through the car window at Sakura, but she was staring down into her lap.

"Hello," Rin said pleasantly, "I was wondering what the situation was."

She gave Gaara a sideways look, glanced once more at Sakura, and something in her seemed to harden visibly, her shoulders tensing up at the sight.

"I'm Yakushi Kabuto," He gave a little bow, smiling, "I'm a friend of Sakura's."

"No you are not –" Gaara snarled, but Kabuto shook his head and began to back away.

"I assure you," He said calmly, crossing the back of the car. Gaara realised what he was doing and started to chase after him, but Kabuto simply opened the car door and smiled nonchalantly at him, "I am indeed her friend."

He got into the car and almost instantly, the engine roared to life.

Gaara smacked his hands off the car window, shouting for Sakura to get out. Her head did not turn his way, nor did she make any move to leave.

Rin looked more than alarmed now and Hinata's hand had fallen to her pocket, where she now clutched her phone, her forehead furrowed in worry.

"What's going on?" Rin shouted, peering through Sakura's window.

"We can't let him leave with her!" Gaara tried to open one of the back doors, his face red with frustration.

"Right." Rin said calmly as the car reversed slightly, bringing it into a better position to smoothly drive away.

She stood in front of the car just as it began to move forward, her face sternly disapproving as though daring the driver to keep going.

Sakura's eyes bugged out, she hit Kabuto's arm in panic and the car rolled to a halt, inches away from Rin's legs. The older woman glared at him through the window, unshaken and authoritative.

"Out." She said slowly so they could lip-read, "Get out now."

xxxxxxxx

"Well, we're doomed." Sakura said, staring at Tezuka with complete terror, "We had a good run though, wouldn't you agree?"

Kabuto rubbed his temples with his fingertips, looking very much not amused, "I take it you know this woman too?"

"Uh yeah, she's my psychiatrist."

"You see a psychiatrist?" Kabuto asked, suddenly interested, ignoring Tezuka's best bitch-face glaring at him.

"I _did_ try to kill myself."

"Ah, but does she know that?"

"No – oh shit she's got her phone out, what if she calls my mum?" Sakura was already scrabbling at the door handle ("you have child locks, you a_sshole_") as she fretted. She managed to get the door open after Kabuto sighed and pressed a button.

They both exited the car, Sakura shamefaced, Kabuto mildly annoyed.

Tezuka immediately made a beeline for Kabuto, pointing her finger at his chest like a weapon. Her face was alight with self-righteous anger.

"This child is under my supervision," She began, jabbing her finger into his chest. Sakura made a noise of vehement disagreement at the word _child. _Kabuto began to smile, "I want to know what's going on here."

"Tezuka-san, I'm afraid there has been a serious misunderstanding," Kabuto's smile turned apologetic. Sakura gave him a suspicious glare, not liking the sudden change in attitude. "I work with Sakura-san's mother. She has to work late at the hospital today so she asked me to drive Sakura-san home. Here is my ID." He took a plastic, laminated card. His photo and details were printed neatly along with the hospital's official stamp.

Tezuka took it, frowning. She stared at it, though Sakura knew she wouldn't get much from it. She didn't know the hospital or its protocol for worker identification.

"Are you a doctor?" She asked, "It doesn't say what your profession is."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Kabuto said lightly, "Just qualified."

"You look too young to be a doctor! You do have that kind of air about you, though." Tezuka smiled.

Sakura felt her eye twitch under the pressure of her incredulous squint. Tezuka was supposed to be a super-intelligent, perceptive woman! She wasn't supposed to fall for Kabuto's crap!

"How do you know this young man?" Tezuka pointed at Gaara, still smiling pleasantly, "He called you by name back then."

Gaara smirked.

Kabuto glanced at Gaara, his head tilting in interest.

Gaara knew Kabuto? Sakura's face scrunched up in confusion, through Orochimaru, perhaps?

Gaara's smirk grew as Kabuto failed to answer. Ah. He was enjoying this.

Kabuto gave a theatrical sigh, "His name is Gaara," He replied. Gaara's smirk disappeared instantly, "He's a friend of Sakura-san's. I know him through her."

Tezuka nodded in understanding, "I see. However, I still want to know why Gaara-san said you were someone who Sakura should not get into a car with," Her smile became radiant, "could you explain why that was?"

Kabuto's lips pursed in annoyance.

He gave Sakura a sideways look. She understood. It was up to her now to keep up the masquerade. For whatever reason, Kabuto did not want them to know she worked for him. And her mother's job relied in them not finding out.

She glared violently at his face. He turned it, presumably to hide his amusement.

"Kabuto is a terrible driver," Sakura said, shaking her head, "Mum must have been desperate to ask him to drive me."

"You've recently been in a car crash," Tezuka said, narrowing her eyes. She truly did have a gift for stating the obvious, didn't she? "And you don't mind taking risks like this?"

Sakura returned Tezuka's suspicious look. How much of the truth about the 'accident' did Tezuka know? If so, was she worried Sakura was still suicidal?

Gaara opened his mouth finally, his pale eyes cutting. Sakura realised what he planned to do when he glanced at Kabuto.

"Tezuka!" Sakura said desperately. The older woman blinked, "I cannot keep this charade up any longer!"

Kabuto stiffened slightly.

Gaara mouth relaxed into a smile, clearly relieved.

"Kabuto and I are in a secret relationship!" Sakura declared.

Kabuto made a noise like a strangled cat, a cross between a screech and a protest.

Sakura beamed at him, linking his arm in hers, "We can't tell anyone because of the age difference. I'm sorry about lying about needing a lift, but Mum would never –"

"What the fuck." Gaara said, his tone completely flat. He was expressionless, "Just… _what."_

"I see," Tezuka looked contemplative, "and Gaara-san does not approve, I take it?"

Sakura affected a watery-eyed look of shame, "He only wants what's best for me. He doesn't understand that my love is just that!"

"My love?" Kabuto murmured, his arm tight in hers.

"Too much?" She whispered. His shoulders shook.

"Where were you really going, then?" Tezuka asked, "if he wasn't taking you home?"

"Oh, no, he was," Sakura felt herself blushing and cursed, "It's just, Mum didn't really ask because she doesn't know and I didn't want you to ask her…"

Tezuka stared hard at the two of them, at Sakura's blushing face and Kabuto's newly appropriated look of tortured love.

"Well, it's legal," She finally said, though she obviously didn't like it, "However, I don't think this is a healthy relationship at all. Age differences can be overcome if both parties are completely grown up, however, with Sakura being sixteen and of a slightly… well, her judgement is not that of an adults. There is, inevitably, a power imbalance. Therefore, I think her parents need to be informed, just to be safe."

Sakura's stomach lurched in panic, "No! Don't tell them, please!" If her parents thought she was seeing an older man, and her psychiatrist was concerned enough to come to them about it… it would be just another thing for them to worry about, and Kabuto might decide to cut his losses and get her mother sacked anyway!

"Come off it, Sakura!" Gaara suddenly exploded, "You can't really be seeing this bastard, just because he works with Orochimaru?"

"Don't insult him!" Sakura snapped, aware of Tezuka's heavy gaze, "And it's none of your business!"

"Of course not," Gaara said, breathing heavily, "I'm only your friend. None of my business at all."

"I won't tell your parents," Tezuka said, "There is a certain confidentiality between us, after all. But please remember, you can call me anytime if you ever need me."

"Sakura?" Hinata suddenly piped up, reddening when everyone looked at her, "If you still need a lift, I can call my driver."

Kabuto gave Sakura the tiniest of nods, so she smiled at Hinata, "I think that would be for the best. Just so none of you have to worry."

Gaara's eyes did not move from Sakura's face the whole time Hinata was on the phone. His eyes were strangely pleading.

"Oh, here's the bus!" Tezuka said, grabbing Hinata's wrist and tugging her on despite her sudden, obvious terror. Sakura watched Hinata through the window, seeing how she struggled to articulate to the driver what ticket she needed.

The bus pulled away, leaving only Gaara to deal with.

Sakura made to remove her arm from Kabuto's, but he stilled the movement with his hand. His smile was wicked, "I'll see you later then, Sakura-san."

Shit. Did he want her to work through the night?

She forced a smile, "OK."

Before she knew it, Kabuto's face was descending towards hers and she could see a flash of Gaara's outraged face and she barely had enough time to think _shit he's gonna kiss me_ before his lips… gently brushed her forehead, a chaste kiss that seemed almost sweet in comparison to the clinch she had expected. She stared up at him, eyes wide, and he smiled at her, brushing aside some of the hair that had fallen into her face.

"You always think the worst of me, don't you?" He murmured.

"Tezuka never introduced herself," Sakura said quietly, "So how did you know her name, Stalker-kun?"

Kabuto gave a chuckle, "Orochimaru Corp. requires every member to have perfect health… physical and mental. Of course I checked yours out."

"Perfect health." Sakura tapped her cane against the floor, "Are you a moron?"

"Just willing to overlook certain things for special people."

Sakura's blush grew fiery. "Shut up!" She spat, covering her cheeks with her hands, "You and your stupid false flattery!"

"Why would his flattery be false?" Gaara asked suddenly, "He's your boyfriend, apparently."

"Er, well, he's –"

"Sakura-san is very bad at accepting compliments," Kabuto said pleasantly, "She really needs to work on that, I'm afraid."

"Cut the crap." Gaara seized Kabuto's collar, dragging him forward. Sakura rather thought he allowed himself to be pulled, considering the difference in sizes.

Gaara's pale green eyes bored into Kabuto's, "You clearly know who I am."

"Of course," Kabuto smiled, "The youngest son of the late – "

"And _why_ is he _late_?" Gaara snarled.

"I'm sure there's a punchline to that if you give me a minute. No? Fine then. Your father was murdered."

"_By_ _your boss!_"

"Most say it was you, actually."

"Gaara!" Sakura said warningly as his fist drew back for a punch. He lowered it, still seething in rage.

"Why are you protecting him?" He growled, "He works for a psychopath, I said it before!"

"And I said: _I know._" Sakura replied, widening her eyes meaningfully.

Gaara's anger faltered, "What, you know… and you don't care?"

"Orochimaru-sama is…" Sakura trailed off, struggling to find the words for the lie.

"Famous for ordering illegal experiments on humans," Gaara said flatly, "For hiring killers. Hurting anyone he can get his hands on. If you hang around him…"

"Sakura won't get hurt, I promise you." Kabuto said gravely.

"My father did. And your promises aren't worth much. Come on, Sakura," Gaara held out his hand, "Let's go."

Sakura couldn't help it, she looked at Kabuto for permission.

He tilted his head, looking between the two of them. His dark eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.

"You don't need his permission." Gaara said, his voice and low and insistent.

_Do you think she'd find a job easily if she lost this one?_

Yes I do, she thought sadly. I owe my mother some happiness; after all I've put her through. That can't start with her losing her job.

"I'm sorry, Gaara." She said honestly.

"I'll be even more sorry if you turn up dead in a ditch one day," Gaara threw his hands up, turning to walk away, "Honestly, I thought you were smarter than this."

Sakura's jaw trembled.

Kabuto's hand squeezed her arm, not hard. Almost in comfort.

"How much would you actually _do_ for your mother's job?" Kabuto asked, his tone not suggestive. He seemed curious.

"Not her job. I'd do anything for my mother. Even lose a friend, I guess." Sakura blinked back tears, feeling ridiculous. There was a lump in her throat that felt like a fist slowly pressing against her oesophagus.

Kabuto let her go, rolling his eyes.

"Lie to him," He said, "Tell him the truth. I don't care either way."

Sakura took a step, hardly daring to believe it, "Are you sure?"

"No," He said sullenly, "Do it anyway. And stop crying. You'll spoil your looks."

Sakura gave him a big, beaming smile. "Pervert." She teased, "See you later then!"

She limped after Gaara, her stride worsening in her haste. She looked comical in her wobbling retreat.

After she left, Kabuto leant against his car, his head in his hands.

"What is wrong with me?"

xxxxxxxx

"How's your tutoring going?" Ino asked, the pen in her mouth wiggling as she spoke. Her pale eyes swept the length of her desk, covering the vast number of books and papers that were strewn on its surface. She scribbled the answer to a sum, looking to Sakura for guidance.

Sakura glanced at the page at Ino's pleading look. Math was a strange subject for her. She had no passion for it, she never felt that surge of pleasure at learning something new with it. And yet, numbers seemed to flash through her brain like a computer's calculations. She was very rarely wrong when it came to mathematics.

She moved Ino's decimal point one space. Ino's eyebrows shot up and she stared, aghast, trying to work out her mistake.

"Learn the rule before you do the sum," Sakura said, tapping Ino's head with a pencil in chastisement. She slid the open textbook over and patted the right section, "And I'm not being tutored anymore."

"Oh?" Ino was barely listening, her attention focused on her homework, "How come?"

"My grades have improved." Sakura replied.

"So quickly? Well done! Heh, whenever I used to ask you about your grades in primary school, you would always say the same thing, 'Doing well in everything, I guess.' Then I'd find out you were getting perfect scores for every subject!" Ino chuckled to herself, scribbling notes in the margin.

Sakura shrugged, "It's nothing. When someone comes naturally to you, it's hardly admirable to do well in it, right? I didn't work hard for those grades."

"You don't apply yourself," Ino winked, "Everything is easy, so it's all boring. If something's boring, you can't bring yourself to care about it. I, however, am doing rather well for myself lately. My grades have shot up! And I do extracurricular activities!"

"Good for you," Sakura crossed out one of Ino's notes, shooting her a placatory smile when she pouted, "Don't forget to reverse that. You're in the Home Economics club, right? Is that taxing?"

"It's the _fashion_ club, Sakura, jeez. What kind of best friend are you?"

"You're right, the difference is vast indeed. Will you ever forgive me?"

"If you do my maths homework for me."

"No."

"Damn it. One day that will work."

"But it is not this day."

"Nerd."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, for your information, looking this good takes time," Ino gestured at herself with a knowing smirk, "Do you know how many hearts I break every day?"

"Half as many as you deserve, surely." Sakura replied in tones of absolute disinterest.

"Huh?"

"Doesn't matter. Why did you write six there? It should be fourteen. In fact, you've written half of the answers under the wrong questions."

"What are you talking ab – oh shit!"

xxxxxxxx

"Chiyo." Gaara called, leaving his key on the hall table. Sakura followed, squinting into the darkness, trying to discern the shapes of the furniture surrounding them, not wanting to hurt her legs.

Gaara flipped a switch and the ceiling light turned on, revealing the crowded hallway Sakura remembered from her previous visit. Chiyo, the demented old bat, was clearly a hoarder. The hallway was stuffed with discarded tables.

Sakura gingerly skirted around them, her cane making a rhythmic knocking sound from all the times it was banged against something. Gaara followed her silently, expertly dodging the wooden fixtures.

"In here." An unfamiliar voice called, restrained and soft.

Gaara made a noise of realisation and pushed a door open that Sakura hadn't even noticed. It was a disused dining room. All the shelves held cracked, yellowing crockery and the long, once-grand table was covered in dust.

A young man sat at the table opposite Chiyo. Sakura could see the family resemblance from just a glance. He looked uncomfortably similar to Gaara.

"Sasori," Gaara stepped into the room, "What are you doing here?"

"He's trying to persuade me to die already." Chiyo said grumpily.

"It is not working." Sasori said, deadpan. "Who's the girl?"

"Yo," Sakura raised a hand in greeting, "I'm Haruno Sakura."

"A friend," Gaara said carelessly, "I wanted to talk with her about something, so we'll be in my room."

Chiyo's rheumy eyes lit up.

"Heh heh… do you think just 'cause I'm an old woman that I don't know what you're planning on doing?" She said craftily, "I was young once too, you know. Your daddy didn't spring from nothing."

"We just want to have a private chat –"

"Nope. If all you want's a chat you can do it right here where I can keep an eye on you." To illustrate her point, Chiyo widened one eye and angled her face in almost the right direction.

"Gaara's to the left." Sasori muttered.

Chiyo's face changed directions, her wide eye now staring straight at them both.

"Times like this my family seems normal." Sakura said, satisfied.

"Shut up," Gaara said sourly, "are you OK to talk about it here?"

"I don't care, I just wanna clear up this misunderstanding."

"As long as you aren't actually dating Kabuto." Gaara said dismissively, pulling up a chair and sitting astride it.

"Priorities, Gaara." Sakura sniffed.

* * *

It's hilarious how Hinata disappears in someone else's perspective. I keep forgetting she's there, it's so annoying. SPEAK UP, DAMMIT

Tezuka would rather get run over than allow her charge to drive off with an unsavoury fellow! Admittedly the car was driving very slowly but REGARDLESS! Well done, Tezuka.

Is it bad that I laugh at my own jokes? I laughed a lot at Sakura's pathetic attempts at lying in this chapter. Master of manipulation she is not. KABUTO AND I ARE IN A SECRET RELATIONSHIP AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS OUR BURNING LOVE

Hinata's arc will become more important later, I swear. Sakura's is reaching its peak!

Sasori is Gaara's cousin, so Chiyo is also his grandmother.

An anon asked for KabuSaku and Genuinely-Unique said they liked it, so I hoped they liked this chapter!

Alternate endings for the confrontation scene included: Kabuto very literally running off with Sakura in his arms, cane and all. Gaara punching through the glass of the car window, freaking Kabuto out enough for him to free Sakura from her child lock prison. Tezuka falling briefly in love with Kabuto and allowing him to drive off with Sakura. Hinata revealing a hidden talent for martial arts and knocking Kabuto out with one strike. And finally, my personal favourite: A nuclear bomb wiping them all out.

As you can probably tell, the confrontation scene was a bitch to write.

A few of you may have been confused at Tezuka saying KabuSaku was legal, however in Britain it is indeed legal to have a sexual relationship with people aged sixteen and above, so in this story it is. (Not that it's set in Britain, it's set in a confusing parallel universe in which teens with strange yet natural hair colours speak in British slang with incorrectly placed Japanese suffixes against a slightly Americanised backdrop)

I'm writing a book, btw :) It's Student Warfare, my fanfic, heavily warped and altered to fit an original story. I'm having way too much fun writing it!

**Quick poll for fun:** Have you ever underestimated a book/film/TV series/other and been pleasantly surprised by it?

I have! I hated the first three Vampire Diaries books, so I assumed I'd hate the TV series too. Fast forward over twenty episodes later and I'm sobbing over my new OTP that ended _**TRAGICALLY**_

Goddammit


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